


Break a Little

by sis_tafics



Category: Supernatural
Genre: A/B/O, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha/Omega, Death, F/M, Knotting, Mating, Smut, Suicide Attempt, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-17
Updated: 2018-12-16
Packaged: 2019-09-20 19:50:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 24,649
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17028924
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sis_tafics/pseuds/sis_tafics
Summary: You’re an Alpha Female, and that means your entire life you’ve been an outcast, an abomination. It’s been so long you don’t remember what it is like not to feel raw, angry and hurt. You’re aggressive, a little wild, and don’t play well with others. So when your only friend’s brother Dean calls and says Sam is missing, you are hesitant to work with him. After all, you have always been alone.





	1. Part 1

You sit at the bar, consumed in your own little world. The whiskey you sip on is just fuel, fuel for how much you hate everything, hate what you are, who you are, how you hate the world around you.

It’s after a hunt, and just like every single damn time the violence has you on edge, running on adrenaline and nothing can fix it, nothing ever will. But the hunts themselves are good for you, they help focus that rage that is always there.

“Hey gorgeous,” some asshole sits beside you, and you wind him first, a fucking alpha.

“Get lost,” you growl, knowing he doesn’t know yet, there are too many in here, it happened a lot in seedy bars on dirty backroads in the middle of nowhere. Drifters, nine times out of ten, were alphas.

“I was just going to offer to buy you a drink,” he smirks, clearly thinking this is going to go different.

“And I said get lost,” you try again, losing your patience, not that you had a lot to begin with.

He touches your arm on the bar and you fucking lose it, you can’t help it, your temper, that instinctual violence has always gotten the better of you. You grab his hand, twisting it and his arm around, slamming his head against the bar in one fluid moment, “Touch me again and you lose that fucking hand.”

“You’re an alpha?” he chokes in disbelief, finally smelling it.

“You are damn straight.” You are so close to breaking his arm, and part of you wants to, the only thing stopping you is the bartender pumping the shotgun behind the bar.

“Get the hell outta here!” He snaps. You put your hands up immediately, backing up before taking off out the front, into the chilly night.

You don’t have a car, yet. You still need to pick one up so you chose to walk, letting your brain run wild, trying to calm down. But you are drunk and spiraling.

You are an alpha female, and fuck you knew that you didn’t belong.

You’re typical for an alpha; muscular, strong, a little wild, and aggressive as all hell. That didn’t bother you. What bothered you more than anything is you don’t belong and everyone reminds you of that, every damn person.

Your family had pretty much disowned you when you presented early. They said they should have known, they just thought you were a strange omega. You rough housed with the males in school, you grew early on, you would turn on others fast, getting pissed and aggressive. And even though you would never hurt your younger siblings, as soon as you had presented they had started keeping you away from them, eventually sending you to live with your beta aunt and uncle when you had become ‘too much to handle’.

It hurt, and that hurt always turned to anger.

You fucking hated all of this. What was the point of a world where you have packs and soulmates and yours could not possibly exist because you were an abomination? You belonged alone but you despised being lonely.

You had met one omega male your entire life, and he had been scrawny and shy and you couldn’t stand him. As far as rumors go, they were all like that. You will not be with something like that, no way in fucking hell.

It wasn’t like betas did it for you either, if you were being honest. Like it was fun, but you would get a little rough and most of them didn’t enjoy that, and it left you feeling like shit when you would see that little bit of fear cross their face.

Alphas on the other hand, did. But that was a bomb waiting to explode every damn time. It was fun, both of you fighting for dominance while fucking each other’s brains out, but you were scared after the last time. And no, you weren’t scared of other alphas, you were scared of yourself.

The dumbass had tried to fucking claim you, actually tried to knot and as soon as you felt it instinct had took over, you had tried to kill him. You overpowered him and had beaten the shit out of him, almost ripping his throat out. After that, you felt like you couldn’t do anything with anyone, it felt like you shouldn’t even be allowed around others.

Tonight was proof of that.

Society wasn’t wrong, you were dangerous and you didn’t belong. You didn’t belong anywhere or to anyone. You are on your own, just like you have always been. That notion is the thing that haunts you every second of every fucking day. And times like this, times when you are just a little bit drunk, it makes you want to give up.

You are halfway to town when your phone goes off in your pocket, pulling you out of your misery. You don’t recognize the number so you don’t answer it. If it is important, they will leave a damn message.

But then it rings again, and a-fucking-gain.

“Take the hint asshole,” you snap as you open the phone.

“Is that how you always answer?” An unfamiliar voice asks. It is deep, gravelly.

“When it is one in the morning, yeah.”

“Is this Y/N?”

You stop in your tracks, taking a deep breath, “The one and only.”

“I don’t know if you remember me from when we were kids but this is Dean Winchester. I’m-.”

You recognize the name immediately, “You’re Sam’s older brother.” You had met him a couple times when you were a kid at Bobby’s place when your parents had dumped you for the weekend to go on a hunt. But after a while, Sam just got dumped and Dean stayed hunting with his dad. From what you remembered of him he was a little shit, cocky and confident as all hell, alpha material all the way.

“Yeah- I need some help and I found your number in my brother’s things.”

“Why didn’t Sam just call me?” You had worked with him before. Sam was a beta that wasn’t afraid of you and he had called you in the past for a few hunts. Hell, he was probably the closest thing to a friend you have. Part of you thought maybe he was your shot at being with somebody, every time you had sat in that damn Impala you had been attracted to him. But a day or two later it never felt right and you had tossed the thoughts aside, never pushing it.

“He’s…” Dean is struggling with the words, “he’s missing and I need help finding him.”

Shit, “Where are you at?”

He’s quiet for a moment, “Indiana, north of 80, I can text you the address.”

You glance down at your watch, “I can be there in maybe four or five hours,” by the time you make it to town and jack a car you figure you will be sober enough to drive.

“Thanks sweetheart.”

You scoff, “It’s Y/N.”

He half laughs, “Anyways, see you when you get here.”

Asshole. You hit the end call, shoving the phone back in your pocket. Pulling up the collar of your jacket, you pick up a jog, worried because in the back of your mind you knew if Dean called it must be an emergency

On one of the side streets you find an old pickup that is unlocked, spare set of keys in the glove compartment. You swing back to the motel you were staying at, pick up your stuff and blow town, driving as fast as the truck could handle.  

Dawn is just coming over the horizon when you pull into the shabby ass motel that he had texted you. You leave your stuff in the truck, everything can wait until later when you can get your own room, hopefully on the opposite side of the motel because you still weren’t sure this was a great idea. Even if he was decent enough, you weren’t the nicest person in the world and you had the worst habit of starting shit out of nothing.

You knock on door number nine, hearing him move on the other side. You can already smell him, but you aren’t sold on the alpha yet. Alphas, at least to you, always kinda smell like deep woods, but not as pleasant. Sort of like it is so intense it burns your nose.

He’s distinct but more familiar, like open fields right after it rains, but kinda like leather at the same time. It’s odd and unnerving. You’re leaning towards beta now, your body relaxing a little, but still maintaining that edge because it shouldn’t be that strong. Most people on the street were pretty civilized, but in your experience, hunters let their instinct get the best of them a lot and you weren’t taking any chances.   

The door swings inward, and as soon as he can wind you his face immediately becomes guarded, his stance changing. Fuck, he had to be an alpha if he had you pegged that fast.

“I don’t want any trouble,” you hold your hands up.

He looks you over, his jaw clenching. Dean doesn’t look anything like you remember, except for those green eyes. He had been a skinny kid, but now he was all lean muscle, and tall as hell. You would be lying if you said he wasn’t good looking, it’s been a long time since you’ve met someone that you were this attracted to immediately.

He takes in a deep breath, shoulders rising, fists clenched, eyes wary, “Sammy didn’t say you were an alpha.”

You shrug and roll your eyes, “Surprise.”


	2. Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You work with Dean to try and find Sam, but there is something off about Dean

Dean doesn’t move.

“Are you gonna let me in?” You sigh.

He still doesn’t budge.

“Listen, I’m not thrilled about this either. Your little brother never exactly mentioned you were an alpha too. But I’m here to help, so let me the fuck in or tell me to get lost.” You growl, aware that people might be staring out their windows by now with how long you’ve been standing there.

Confusion crosses his face for a second and then he clears his throat, “Alright, come in.”

He moves to the side, looking left and right before shutting the door and locking it. You take in the room, the newspaper clippings pinned to the wall and red yarn connecting them to places on the map. It doesn’t take you very long. “You were hunting some vamps.”

Dean chuckles low. “Not bad.”

You glance over, eyebrow raised, challenging him, “I’m good at what I do.”

He nods, smirking, “Sure thing sweetheart.”

You roll your eyes. “Call me that again and I break your jaw.”

And from the look on his face you think the cocky son of a bitch is going to do it just to test you, but he sighs, looking back at the wall.

“So the last time I talked to him he was checking out the highway west of town, looking for the nest. Then I didn’t hear from him again.”

“Did you try to track his phone?”

“Yes, I tried to track his phone.” He’s annoyed, “I’m not a dumbass.”

You want to snap, say you were just making sure, but you hold your tongue, “Any other leads?”

“Not really, there is just too much ground to cover and not enough time.”

You nod, focusing on the victim’s, “Big nest?”

He reaches over your shoulder, pointing at a article. His proximity makes you edgy, it makes your skin tingle. The feeling is strange, you don’t want to hurt him, but you still want to pin him, and you don’t like it one bit.

“See here, they took out an entire family and drug all the bodies. So, I’m thinking more than five but less than ten, otherwise they couldn’t stay in the area without being noticed.” He glances down and sees how uncomfortable you are, grimaces, and takes a step back.

“Well it is a good thing you called, you could use the backup.” You cross your arms, studying the clippings some more. This is where you belong, this is the only way you could focus everything you had. But for some reason, Dean keeps creeping into your mind and you can’t shake him.

“I don’t need backup for ten vamps,” Dean scoffs.

“Uh-huh, sure.” You shake your head.

“Listen, I’ve been doing this my whole life-” He’s getting pissed.

You turn, cutting him off, “and so have I. And I am telling you if they have a hostage, you need the backup.”

He grumbles something under his breath, but then shows you on the map, “I think they are holed up somewhere in this area.”

“Well, let’s go see what we see, Winchester. We probably have until sundown before they start trying to make a move.”

He grabs some stuff off the table and a set of keys, “C’mon, I’ll drive.”

“I gotta grab something out of the truck and I’ll be right there.” You jog to the truck, grabbing one of your small duffles, weapons rattling around as you head for the Impala.

“I always thought this was Sam’s car,” you say, settling against the leather.

Dean laughs, “Sam doesn’t know the first thing about cars…This is my baby.”

“Huh.” You muse, thinking about it. Thinking about how familiar and comfortable this car was, how it felt, how much you relaxed here. It always kinda had that effect on you. It was a nice contrast to how you were feeling earlier. You half wondered if you were going into your version of ‘rut’ early. You don’t know what it is actually called, it’s not like you’ve ever talked to anyone who is like you. But that would explain why you are moodier than normal and why you’ve wanted to pace a hole in the floor since the second you got here.

It wasn’t like omega’s heat, you didn’t get the sweats or cramps and you didn’t want someone to fuck you. You wanted to fuck everyone and everything, but usually it was easily hidden. You just found other outlets. Hunting and fighting seemed to fit the bill pretty well most times.

Dean turns onto a highway and you let your head rest against the cool window, watching the landscape go by until he pulls the car onto a gravel road, parking on the shoulder.

“Do you want to split up?” He asks, looking through the windshield.

Normally you would have said yes, “Nah, let’s stick together on this one and find your brother.”

You both gear up, strapping a machete to your hip, putting a knife in your boot and packing your gun. It wouldn’t help with the damn vamps, but you never know when you are going to need it.

“Let’s go,” he says low, leading the way down the road until there is an irrigation ditch between the corn and you cut up it. There are a couple of old barns off this run.

About a half mile in you hear him panting. When you glance at him he looks like shit, a thin layer of sweat on his skin. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah,” he grunts, nodding, “I’m just coming down with some shit.” He reaches into his pocket, pulling out a bottle of pills and downing a few.

“Okay,” you shrug, you aren’t the kind of person who is going to baby him and ask if he wants to stop. He’s a big boy and as far as you are concerned, he can take care of himself. But it bothers you how strong he smells, how his scent is clouding your mind. Dammit, focus, you’ve got a job to do.

It’s another half hour before you make it anywhere, a barn a few hundred yards away as you duck into a tree line. Dean follows close behind, making so much noise with his damn breathing you know if the vamps are in there, they are going to hear you coming.

“Stay here.” You point to a stump.

“Fuck that,” he argues.

You shake your head, trying not to lose your temper, “I’m just going to take a look.”

You go to step away, but he grabs your elbow, pulling you down, covering your mouth. You go to shove him away, but you hear the twig snap up the hill a little.

“Shh,” He says in your ear. You nod and he takes his hand away.

At the top of the rise, you see a figure looking around. The fang probably smells you two and is searching. You stay low, right by Dean as you unsheathe your machete.

You look at him questioningly, seeing what he wants to do, but he just shrugs, standing up and walking to where the trees clear out, “Hey you!”

He’s got to be fucking kidding. The vamp turns, snarling before barreling down the hill towards him.

Fuck, you rush too late as the vamp gets to Dean, faking him and then tackling him to the ground. Dean is putting up a hell of a fight, and any other day, you are sure that vamp would be dead already, but with him being sick, he’s struggling.

You get there, grabbing her by her hair and pull her back as she hisses and screeches. Throwing her to the ground, you take a step back, squaring your feet as she starts to rush forward. But before she takes a step, her head is separated from her body.

Dean is standing there with a shit eating grin on his face, “And that is how its do-.”

He’s tackled from the side,a second male vamp coming out of nowhere. Hell, you hadn’t seen him, and you don’t know how you didn’t smell him.

“Dean!” You call out, fear rushing through you like you’ve never felt. You don’t think, just wrap your arms around the vamp and pull back, hard. He tumbles, falling back on you, but you roll, taking the advantage, getting on top.

You straddle his chest, pinning his arms as he struggles and screams, reaching back and grabbing the knife out of your boot. His hand flies up, grabbing your wrist, but you use both hands, pushing hard until you bury the blade in his windpipe, jerking it to the side, splitting his neck in half, but the damn thing won’t die, it’s still clawing at you.

Dropping the knife, you grab its hair, snapping the neck to the side, feeling what’s left break as you twist it around, blood gushing everywhere as the thing spasms and falls still.

You pant, falling back on the damp leaves, trying to catch your breath and slow your heartbeat. You look up and Dean’s watching you, a small smile on his face, “That was fucking badass.”

You half scoff, half laugh. “Thanks.”

He holds out his hand, offering to help you up. You shake your head, smacking it away lightly before pushing yourself to your feet, brushing the dirt off your ass.

He chuckles, “Well, I think taking them by surprise probably isn’t an option now.”

“You think?” You shake your head. “Going in hot then?”

He nods, “Let’s roll.”

You jog side by side to the barn, keeping your eyes and ears open. You grab the door handle, waiting until Dean is in place before swinging it open.

He takes the first step in, head pivoting, you a step behind.

“It’s too quiet,” his voice is low.

“Mhm.” That’s bothering you, but it isn’t all. Your stomach is doing flip flops and you don’t know why. You never get nervous on hunts, and fuck, it doesn’t even feel like nerves, but that’s the closest thing you can think of. All you know is you want to be in front of Dean, to protect him for some damn reason. What is happening to you today? You must be going soft.

Luckily, you don’t have too much time to dwell on it because all hell breaks loose. Vamps start coming from everywhere, you’re getting tossed around. Dean is thrown up against a wall. Instead of pissing you off it gives you this laser focus. It isn’t like in the movies, nothing slows down, but you let instinct take over, let your body do what it has been trained to do and it is just this amazing feeling.

Before you really get going, it is over. Your clothes are soaked with blood, and you glance over at Dean, who is catching his breath. You break, actually smiling. “Bet you are glad you had some back up now.”

He shakes his head, “Yeah, yeah, ye-ugh.” he doubles over suddenly, grabbing his stomach.

“Holy shit, Dean!” You lunge towards him without thinking, but he throws up his hand, stopping you.

“I’m fine,” he stands upright, leaning back against the wall and digging in his pocket again, face contorted in pain. He downs a couple more pills from the bottle.

“You keep popping pills like that, they aren’t going to work.” You grumble.

“Yeah, I’m sure you don’t pop more than the recommended dosage,” he scoffs, rolling his eyes, “C’mon, let’s find Sam.”

“Fine.” You snap, taking off first, trying to listen and smell, but it is so hard with him right next to you, “Let’s split up, we can cover more ground.”

“Alright,” He heads for the ladder that leads up to the haybarn. If you’re being honest, you don’t want to let him go by himself, but the practical part of you knows that this is the best plan. And why the fuck do you care anyways?

The light is dim, but you head towards the next door, taking your time. You swing it open, but there is nothing, just the creaks and groans of the old structure. You aren’t sure how this thing is still standing.

Your eyes adjust, seeing the stalls that are chained shut. You reach the first, and glance in to see Sam sitting in the corner, working on the ropes tied around his hands. “Heya, Sam.”

He looks up, shock on his face as he meets your eyes. You wink, unhooking the chains and opening the door. “You look like you could use a hand.”

“Y/N?” he keeps looking you over, more than confused by your presence. “What the hell are you doing here?”

“Your brother called.”

“My brother? Dean’s here?” His voice raises. “With you?”

“No. I came here by myself, because I knew you were missing and happened to meet your brother.”

He shakes his head, a small smile on his face, “Alright, I get it.”

“I’m glad you still get sarcasm… and be quiet, I’m not sure we got all the vamps.” You undo the knot on his wrists, leaving him to shake them off.

He gets up, rubbing his wrists. “It’s good to see you,” he pulls you into a bear hug. Sam is probably the only person who can do this without making you want to kill him.

“You too, it’s been awhile.”

He lets you go, looking past you, “Where is he?’

“We split up. You might want to go find him, he was starting to get sick.”

Sam frowns, “What do you mean getting sick?”

“Do I look like a fucking doctor? It looks like the flu or some shit…I’m going to keep looking for people.” You pat him on the shoulder before spinning and taking off down the aisle. Sam heads the other way.

Most of the stalls are empty, one has people but you check and none of them have a pulse. Dammit.

You keep pushing through. Fuck, this place is creepy.

Someone grabs you out of nowhere, pulling you back as an old, rotten beam slams down where you were just about to step. Your instinct takes over, not caring that this person had probably just saved your ass. You spin, pushing them around, back against the wall with a thump, forearm pressing against their throat as you snarl.

You’re a little shocked when it is Dean staring back at you, gripping your forearm, trying to spit out words as you crush his windpipe.

You would have let go the second you saw him, but he’s pale as hell, sweating profusely, and for the first time around him you don’t feel like you are getting half his scent. You don’t feel like you are in the dark.

You can’t breathe and it feels like your heart stops as the word finds your lips, “Omega.”


	3. Part 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean’s secret is out. You are bitter and angry as Sam tries to protect his big brother from you

“You’re an omega.” You can’t believe it. It isn’t processing completely as he pushes against your arm, trying to get out of your grip but you refuse to let go.

“You’re not sick,” you mumble, feeling like you are in some trance as your eyes wander over his face, “you’re in heat.”

Hands grab you from behind, locking yours behind your back, pulling you away, “Dean! Get out of here!” Sam shouts, restraining you.

Dean doesn’t move, just keeps staring at you.

“Dean! Go!” Sam yells again, harder this time and Dean jogs away reluctantly. You start fighting against Sam’s grip, finally getting your wits about you.

“Let go of me!” You growl, squirming against him, “Let fucking go.”

“Not until you calm down.”

“Sam,” you snarl, fighting hard, kicking your leg back, your heel colliding with his shin. His grip falters and you spin out of it, elbowing him in the stomach.

“Y/N, don’t.” Sam begs.

Half of you wants to chase after Dean, but you are so in shock and you don’t know what to do now that no one is holding you in place, “Why didn’t you ever tell me?”

He doesn’t answer, his eyes focus on the ground and it pisses you off.

You stalk towards him, shoving him back as you shout, “why didn’t you tell me your brother was a fucking omega?”

“Y/N, calm do-.”

“I will not fucking calm down! You fucking knew!” Your breath is coming in short, angry gasps, your chest clenching, and you can barely control yourself.  “You fucking knew how fucked up I was about who I am.”

Sam shrugs, his jaw twitching, “You’re dangerous.”

You are almost in tears and you don’t know why, it feels like the only person who you ever thought gave a shit about you is betraying you. “Sam, I might be a bitch but I have never, ever done anything to hurt you. You know I can control myself.”

“Oh yeah?” He scoffs, pissed. “Tell that to that last guy you hooked up with.”

You almost snap, you almost throw him back and start beating the shit out of him, “That’s really fucking low.”

“Well, you weren’t the one dropping him off at the curb of a hospital.”

When you had almost killed that alpha, it was right after a hunt. You and Sam were having a few celebration drinks after when you got picked up. Not an hour later you were covered in blood and calling Sam to help you get rid of him.

You can’t even look at him right now, you’re absolutely livid. You go to rush away, but he grabs you again and this time you reel back and slug him. Taking off at a full sprint, you can hear him calling behind you desperately.

You don’t know where you’re going, the car is going to be gone. You shouldn’t go back to the motel. Sam’s right, you’re dangerous, deep down you know that. You’re violent and impulsive and Dean is someone that you could hurt, especially in his current condition. Or more likely, in yours.

You’re positive you’re in your rut. Everything is on edge, and it is so incredibly hard to think of anything but his skin against yours, of your hips pressing against his, of him buried inside of you. Fuck, fuck, fuck. You shake your head back and forth, trying to clear your mind, trying to get that pull to go away.

You fall to your knees in the ditch, screaming with rage. You don’t like this, you don’t like not knowing what this is, you hate it. You hate the unknown. Being pissed is who you are, hating others, making your own decisions and sticking with them. This was anything but that.

The air is heavy around you, humid, and you sweat through your shirt as you yell at nothing, fists clenching around the long grass and pulling it out by the root. You become the wild animal that deep down you’ve always known yourself to be.

You let yourself bend in half, forehead pressing into the dirt as angry tears fall from your eyes. You rock back and forth, arms wrapped around your sides, begging for this to stop. This confusion, this uncertainty. You’ve never thought of anything but being alone.

As your muscles begin to stiffen and the tears begin to dry you force yourself up, making yourself get moving.

When you hit the road, you start walking, letting your feet take you where you need to go. You can’t believe you didn’t realize, and now it seems so damn obvious. The way he smelled, the way he was acting. But how could someone so strong and big with an attitude to match be an omega? It didn’t make sense, no matter how many times you ran the thought through your head.

Then again, you aren’t something that makes sense either. Just a cruel, cosmic joke.

It’s hot, humid and dark when you make it to the parking lot of the motel. You could have made it here faster, but you needed the time to yourself, to keep your head clear. You knew you needed to be in control of yourself.

Sam immediately walks out of his and Dean’s room, stopping you from going any closer.

“No, Y/N.”

You look up at his hazel eyes that were clouded over, the worry lines on his face deep, “I’m wasn’t going to-…”

“What are you even going to do?”

“I don’t know,” you snap, “what am I supposed to do?”

“You need to go, I put your stuff in your truck.” It’s painful for him to say to you, you can see that. He’s always been nicer to you than he needs to be, and deep down you know he’s just trying to protect his brother.

“Sam…” you forget what you are going to say. A breeze blows and their window is open. God you can feel it, physically feel how strong his scent is in your bones. You can’t think of anything else.

Sam’s saying something that you don’t hear when the door opens, Dean leaning against it, his grey t-shirt soaked through with sweat. “It’s alright Sam.”

Sam turns to his brother, shocked, “You can’t be serious.”

He shrugs, “What’s she going to do? She can’t make this worse than it already is.” He grimaces, a surge pulsing through his body that makes your brain go fuzzy. He’s in so much pain, and it is making you angry and unsure. You’ve been around omega females in heat, and even though they are scared and they smell alright, it isn’t like this, you’ve never felt such a need to comfort someone. You’ve never wanted to comfort anyone.

Dean tilts his head, motioning to the room. “C’mon. I’m guessing you’ve got some questions.”

He stands there, waiting, his olive eyes traveling up and down your body, warm despite the pain covering his face. You feel like you are in a trance, hell you haven’t felt this confused and awestruck since you were small.

Trying to walk past Sam, he grabs your elbow, drawing your attention, “Y/N…”

His eyes are filled with something you don’t recognize. Disappointment? Fear? You can’t quite place it. But his hand falls away as he watches your face, pain replacing whatever was there as he looks at the ground, anywhere but at you.

Your feet carry you towards Dean, and it’s not really a conscious decision, but you aren’t sure it is instinctual either. How could it be? Instinct for you was to be angry, to feel raw, to want to punch somebody or rip their throat out with your bare hands. And this? It didn’t feel like that at all.

He waits for you to walk past him before the door closes and you turn, crossing your arms, taking him in as you try to only breathe through your mouth. Even though you can’t smell him, you can taste him in the air.

You still can’t believe it, staring at him, “This is a fucking joke.”

“Yeah, I wish,” Dean grumbles, holding his stomach, half falling down into the chair he pulls out, “but this definitely doesn’t feel like a joke.”

“That’s what you’ve been fucking pounding down this whole time, isn’t it? Suppressants?” You know you are right, they have worn off, and that’s what is driving your instinct now.

He looks at you, eyes in pain, “Yes.”

“Dean!” You throw up your hands, irrationally angry. “You are pushing thirty, you can’t do that. You are going to kill yourself.” You know that for females, the more you suppress heat, the worse it gets in the long run. It’s dangerous as hell.”

“Well I’m sorry there aren’t exactly a ton of alpha females around. Life is kinda a bitch that way,” he snaps.

You can’t help but feel for him, grimacing. You move across the room, sitting in the chair on the other side of the table. His scent invades your nose, god, it clouds your mind, you’ve never experienced something like this, you’ve never felt the need for someone in your gut like this. It is strange and unnerving; you aren’t sure if you like it.

His head tilts to you and when his eyes meet yours, your heart stops and everything centers around him.

Your entire life you have felt broken, but it is nothing compared to how shattered you feel right now.


	4. Part 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean’s secret is out. You are bitter and angry as Sam tries to protect his big brother from you

Everything you’ve ever known, your whole perspective, seems to change in that instant. Dean isn’t just an omega, he’s your omega.

You can’t look away from his eyes and he can’t look away from yours. You reach across the table, cupping is chin in your hand, squeezing, feeling the roughness under your palm as you pull him towards you, your mouth colliding with his.

He responds to you, opening to you, as you nip at his lips. It overpowers you, your gut clenching, your entire being drunk on him. He tastes like everything good you have ever known. You  break away first as your heart pounds in your chest, “Dean, if you don’t want to do this, I need you to tell me to stop. I don’t know if I can once…”

And it is so hard for you to do, because god you want to keep going, but another part of you wants nothing more than to make sure he feels safe and this is what he wants too. Your want, your need for him makes your entire body shake.

“Don’t stop,” he mumbles, eyes focused on your lips, “Alpha.”

Your heart clenches at the same time as your pussy and you don’t know which is driving you now. You practically leap to the other side of the table, Dean barely able to stand before you crash against him, pushing him back against the wall roughly, arms wrapping around his neck and lips finding his.

He half lifts you, making it easier for him to kiss you. It is all teeth and tongue and desperation. You break away to gasp, ripping at his shirt, tearing the fabric as he keeps his hands on you, touching any skin he can find.

He drops his hands from you, letting you shove the fabric up and over his head, and fuck, his skin is hot under your touch. His scent invades your mind, and all you want to do is ride him like crazy, but he needs this more than you do right now, somewhere in your head you know that.

You push him back, hands flat on his chest, your eyes traveling over his bare skin. His chest rises and falls rapidly with his uneven breaths. You lean forward, pressing your lips against his sternum, right above his heart. Dean shudders, groaning, his hands reaching for you.

You can’t fight it anymore, maybe you don’t want to. You grab his front belt loops, pulling him forward by the waist, spinning him so he’s between you and the bed. He keeps bending down, kissing you as you back him up, his fingers working at the buttons on your shirt, and if he was a little calmer, you are sure he wouldn’t be struggling as much as he is.

“Fuck,” he hisses, frustrated as you nip at the side of his neck and his fingers slip again.

You growl low in your throat, shoving him away, ripping the top up over your head, ditching your bra as well. Dean’s legs hit the edge of the bed and he falls back, the frame and springs squeaking under his weight.

Somehow, you manage to get your pants down your legs without tripping as you close the little distance between you, crawling onto his lap. Holding his face between your hands you kiss him with everything you have, your hips grinding your pussy against the bulge in his jeans.

“Y/N…Alpha,” he mumbles against your lips over and over, making you clench around nothing.

You’ve never wanted something like this, you’ve never needed someone like this. You push him to his back, scooting so you can undo his jeans, Dean lifting his hips as you get off the bed, letting you jerk them down his legs.

His cock springs free, and in the back of your mind you always figured omegas would be more than lacking in that department. He definitely wasn’t, his cock long and thick, standing against his stomach and twitching under your gaze.

Dean half sits, hands searching for you as you crawl over him. You roughly push him back, pinning him between you and the bed as  you suck a dark mark below his collarbone, tasting him. He grunts underneath you, “-need you.”

“Mhm,” You trail your tongue up his neck, rubbing your slick pussy over his aching cock, the head brushing against your clit, making you groan. You roll your hips over and over, working yourself up, feeling him twitch and jump against you.

You reach between you, pumping his cock, lining him up and sinking down on him in one fluid movement. Dean jerks underneath you, his hands flying up but you grab his wrists, leaning forward and pinning his hands on either side of his head as your body adjusts to him. No one has ever felt this right.

It’s because he is made for you and you are made for him. You can feel it in your bones, the perfect fit. For the first time in your entire life, a calm washes over you, you have someone. You loosen your grip, your fingers sliding up between his, lacing together. He squeezes his huge fingers around yours, holding tight as you begin to roll your hips.

“My omega,” you whisper against his sweaty skin as you lift up, slamming back down on him. Dean moans, his eyes wild as he grips your hands so hard it should be painful, but you aren’t as delicate as you look.

You can feel the strain of his strong thighs under your ass as you move faster, fucking him harder. He starts to move with you, hips snapping up to meet your thrusts. The primal part of you wants him to be rougher, but you know this is for him, he needs this, he needs you to be his alpha right now.

“F-fuck,” He grunts, his cock jumping inside you as you ride him.

You press your forehead against his, “Want you to come Dean, fill me up.”

“Jesus Y/N,” his head lolls back, throat tightening, jaw clenching.

You’re both so fucking close. You scrape your teeth over his exposed neck, dragging them to his shoulder as your rhythm becomes erratic, unable to keep a steady pace as your pussy flutters around him. And just as you are about to fall over the edge, you bite down, hard, marking him, claiming him as your own. You feel his skin give way under your teeth, and you can taste the metallic flavor on your tongue. Your heart pounds in your chest, Dean gripping you as hard as he can.  He’s yours, now and forever.

He moans, pushing himself up into your clenching pussy as hard as he can, his cock throbbing, spilling ropes of his come deep inside you. He shudders underneath you as you tremble, screaming his name over and over, your orgasm powerful, hitting you in waves, vision going black as it rocks through you.

His arms wrap around your frame, holding you to his chest, both your bodies still jerking, yours almost convulsing. You can’t catch your breath, you can’t even think, but this is the most at peace you have ever felt in your entire life.

After a bit he is what calms you down, his even breaths and heartbeat slow your own. Your eyes flutter open and you kiss his neck, pushing yourself upright, moving to slide off of him.

“Y/N don-”

But his warning is too late, the tug in your core accompanying the strangle, pained grunt from Dean.

“What the hell?” You start to panic, “You can’t do that.”

He can’t possibly knot you, but here you are, stuck to him.

He chuckles low, his arms wrapping around you, flipping you both to your sides, hiking your leg around his hip, “I’m not sweetheart, it’s all you.”

You roll your eyes, “I told you not to call me that.”

He smirks, “You gonna break my face?”

You shake your head, amused, “I’m pretty sure I said jaw. Am I hurting you?”

“Well, it’s a little late to be asking that.” He jokes and you want to punch him. He senses the aggravation and shakes his head, so close his nose brushes against yours, “No, it feels good…I always kinda wondered how that would work.”

You can’t help but laugh a little, “Well it’s not like we could really call up anyone and ask.”

He nods, contemplating for a moment, forehead creased.

“Spit it out Dean.”

He sighs, “So this hasn’t happened before? Like you’ve never-.”

You shake your head, hand coming up and cupping his face, your thumb rubbing over his cheek, “No, it hasn’t.”

You expect him to say something, but instead he leans forward, kissing you deeply, his fingers tangling in your hair. You melt into it, pressing yourself against his warm body, letting him envelope you.

For the first time you don’t feel helpless or scared. You don’t feel angry or want to burn the world down. You have purpose and are wanted, you feel like you belong.


	5. Part 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean’s your Omega now, Sam isn’t too happy about you claiming his brother

It’s still sticky and hot with the sun down, the air conditioner not working in this shitty motel. When your body finally lets go of Dean, you unhook your leg, staying against him until he falls asleep, which doesn’t take long. He starts to snore and you roll away, the combination of your body and his in heat body too warm for you to handle.

You stay though.

You lay half on your stomach, half on your side listening to his breathing, the even in and out. You’ve never actually slept with someone, and it is a little unnerving. So you curl up with the pillow on the edge, not wanting to bother him. Normally by now you would have been out and down the road, bye.

You’re never going to leave him. You couldn’t even if you wanted to.

You think about it for a really, really long time. How you don’t know the first thing about this man laying with you. Well, maybe the first or second but that is it. You don’t know what he likes or doesn’t, you don’t know what his favorite things are. It doesn’t matter now, you’d do anything for him. But it doesn’t stop the thoughts from eating a bitter hole in your gut.

You don’t remember falling asleep, but Dean stirring drags you into consciousness. You’re still curled up, the sheet barely over your ass, skin with a layer of sweat. You know if it was anyone else, you’d be annoyed, agitated at being woken, but you stay still, wondering what he’s doing. The bed dips as he moves closer, his lips trailing along your spine, between your shoulder blades, little butterfly kisses as his hand touches your side. Never in your entire life has anyone touched you so gently.

Dean feels you tense up and backs away immediately, mumbling an apology. You roll towards him, reaching out and touching his face, “It’s okay Dean.”

You can’t help but grimace, you don’t know how to do this. You don’t know how to care about someone.

His hand finds your cheek, mimicking your position, “What’s wrong Y/N?”

You shake your head, he doesn’t need to worry about you.

“You were fighting in your sleep,” his voice is low, “you kept yelling.”

“What?” You didn’t even remember dreaming about anything.

He nods, “Yeah, you sounded pretty pissed off.”

You laugh, “I generally am.”

He chuckles, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you towards him. You can still smell the heat heavy on his skin but it has subsided considerably, no longer taking over all of your thoughts. But you can’t ignore his hard cock against your thigh.

You can’t help but smirk, Dean shrugs, his expression playful, “Can’t help it being here with you.”

You bite your lip, pushing his shoulder, crawling on top of him “I didn’t say I minded.”

___

It’s almost mid morning when you wake up again, Dean’s large frame tangled with yours, his face pressed against yours so there is no space between the two of you. You can’t help it as you kiss his cheek, then down his neck and shoulder, barely brushing your lips over your claiming mark.

Dean stirs, his hands rubbing up and down your body, “Hey you.”

“Hey yourself,” you smile, really actually smile back at him. Your fingertips run over his chest, settling on a jagged scar under his anti-possession tattoo.

Dean chuckles, clearing his throat, “That’s from one time when I was a little slow on the draw with a shapeshifter.”

You nod, eyes still wandering over his body, over all his scars and marks, knowing that each one has it’s own story. It gives you this rotten feeling in your gut, how you have missed so much of his life, how you haven’t been in his, and it is all the more bitter because you had both been so close to each other but so far away.

“How about that one?” He asks, bringing you out of your thoughts. He is pointing to a nasty looking one below your ribs.

You smirk, shaking your head, “Broken bottle.”

“Bar fight?” He raises an eyebrow.

“No,” you start laughing, “I was shitfaced after a fight and fell down on one in an alley.”

Dean starts laughing with you, each of you swapping a couple more small stories before he points to a long one on your upper arm, obviously from some sort of knife.

“I got it,” you pause for a moment, reliving the memory, “I got it protecting one of my sisters. there was this really creepy alpha following her. I presented that night, went absolutely nuts. My parents kicked me out the next week.”

Dean’s face falls as he thinks about what you just said. He kisses your forehead and then crawls out of bed, heading for the shower. You let him go, even though that pooling feeling is still in your gut, the pounding, the drive has subsided for the moment. You gather up your clothes, putting them on slowly, knowing that anything clean is going to be out in that truck. Honestly, now you don’t feel like getting them so you perch on the edge of the bed, flipping through channels on the TV.

Not five minutes later Sam comes barging in the door, and you know, even if he was  your best friend, he was the last person you wanted to see right now.

“Get out,” you growl, the shower shutting off.

“I came to get Dean, I found a hunt.” He snaps.

“Where at?”

“It doesn’t concern you.”

You can’t help yourself, getting up, pulling yourself to your full height, placing yourself between him and the bathroom door, “Tell me!”

Sam turns, face drawn in anger, “Don’t pull that alpha shit with me… Just because you fucked my br-.” The door creaks open, Dean standing there with a towel wrapped around his hips, and Sam stops dead, jaw clenching, his anger turning to you.

Before you can react he is shoving you back, hand around your throat, pushing you up against the wall so you can barely touch the floor.

“You fucking claimed him?” He bellows, “How fucking dare you? You’ve known each other for two fucking minutes.”

“Let her go!” Dean snaps, rushing for his brother. Sam drops you, forgetting and turning on his brother, swinging, catching Dean in the jaw.

“You knew how I fucking felt about her!” He snaps, hitting Dean again.

You are so angry that your vision gets black spots, dark around the edges, your head pounds with the pressure build up. Going low, you body slam into Sam, knocking him off balance and to the floor. He tries to roll you, but it isn’t any use, you are too pissed off, too hyped up on whatever is coursing through your veins. Six foot four, two hundred plus and he’s an afterthought.

You straddle his chest, your fist colliding with his cheekbone. As you reel back he tries to grab your hand, but you slam it away, your rage fueling any strength you need. He had attacked Dean, your omega. He had to go. That’s all your instinct was telling you, it didn’t care that he is, or was, your friend.

“Y/N!” Dean is trying to pull you off his brother, trying to get you to stop, but you pull away from his grip, your hands wrapping around Sam’s throat. It takes everything Dean has to get you off of him.

He falls back with you, holding you on the floor against his chest, “Stop, it’s okay, stop.”

You hadn’t even realized you were yelling, screaming at Sam until you heard Dean’s soft, low voice in your ear. You grab onto his forearm, letting him ground you as your nails dig into his skin, your anger boiling inside you. Your breath comes in quick pants, your heart racing, pushing the blood through you veins. You still can’t help it, can’t stop it, you want to wrap your hands around his neck and get rid of him.

“Sam, get the hell out of here, give her a minute.” Dean grunts, fighting to hold your shaking body still.

Sam moves to get up, pushing himself and every bone in your body wants to go after him. What stops you is the broken look in his eyes as he backs away, watching you and Dean.

Dean’s arms squeeze around you, keeping you against him as he talks low, nonsense to you. You don’t know how long it takes, but your blood ceases to boil and you feel more in control. You notice the taste of blood on your tongue, your jaw had been clenched so hard your mouth is bleeding.

You are able to relax a little, your fingers unlocking from around his arm, your head resting back against his shoulder, “You can let go.”

“You’re not going to turn around and kill me?” He half laughs, teasing.

For some reason, even though you know he is joking, his words sting, You crane your neck so you can see his face, “I’d never hurt you, ever.”

“I know,” he buries his face in the crook of your neck, his lips pressing against you.

You reach for him, your fingers carding through his hair as you gently kiss his cheek, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry I’m like this.” You take a deep breath, knowing the implications of what you are about to say, “I can leave if it is easier.”

“What?” Dean chokes out, adjusting you in his lap so he can see your face.

“I don’t want to ruin your life.” You would do anything for him, even if you knew it would kill you. Whatever was between you changes everything, every priority you have ever known. All that matters is him.

“I don’t want you to leave,” his brow furrows, “I just found you.”

You nod, touching his face, memorizing it, “But your brother hates me, I thought we were friends, I don’t want to come be-.”

Dean shakes his head, clamming up, “It isn’t that simple Y/N.”

“What?”

Dean swallows hard, refusing to meet your eyes, “He- Sam…He’s in love with you.”


	6. Part 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean’s reveal about Sam’s feelings leaves you reeling, now you must figure out how to move forward but Dean has his own secret

“What?” You breath, in complete disbelief.

Dean can’t meet your eyes, he can’t look at you, his face full of shame, “He loves you, he has for years.”

“Since when?” You demand, grabbing his chin, forcing him to meet your eyes.

Dean swallows hard, “Since we were kids.”

You try to sift through your memories, wracking your brain. There was no way, you had always been friends, but that was it. Sure you had thought something was going to happen because you didn’t think you would ever have an omega. But it didn’t matter anymore, you couldn’t think of anyone other than Dean.

His eyes are red around the edges, “I-I couldn’t- I’m sorry…Y/N-Alpha.”

You realize you are shaking, your hand tight around his chin. You immediately let go, standing up and moving away from him, trying to process this. You start to pace, running your hand through your hair, pushing it away from your face, agitated.

You watch your feet, glance between Dean and the door that Sam had just run through, fuck, “Why didn’t you say something?”

Dean pulls himself up off the floor, “What am I supposed to say? Hey, you’re my soulmate and all, but guess what? My little brother is in love with you?

“I-I…” You don’t know what to say, what are you supposed to do? Dean is all that should matter, he is all that matters but you are so confused and angry. But why when now it all makes sense?

It makes sense why Sam had never asked you to hunt with him and Dean. It explains why he’s been such an asshole to you, yeah he was protecting Dean but he also had another motive. And it hurts like hell, it hurts that he was selfish and it hurts you that he is going through this because he has been there for you in the past. You don’t know whether to scream and punch a hole in the wall or cry.

You stop in your tracks, looking over to Dean who is keeping his distance, even though he looks like he’s struggling to do so, “Stay here.”

“Y/N?” He’s confused, he wants to comfort you but doesn’t know how.

You close the distance between you, placing your hand reassuringly on his cheek, “I’ll be back, I promise.”

“Don’t kill him, alright?” He smirks, trying to make it come off as a joke, but with you it is definitely a legit concern.

“I won’t,” you turn away from Dean, leaving him alone as you go to find Sam.

He’s a little harder to find then you would have thought, but him, following it up the road a ways. Sam is sitting on a bench at a bus stop when you track him down.

“So you’re leaving?” You lean against the light pole, keeping your distance, determined to keep your promise to Dean.

Sam glances up, scoffing and shaking his head, “You wouldn’t give a shit anyways.”

You shrug, “That’s not entirely true. It would hurt Dean, so I’d be upset…Or pissed. Those things usually go together for me.”

“So are you going to drag me back just to make my brother happy?” he growls, challenging you.

God you want to take the bait, but you push it down, “If that’s what it takes.”

“Yeah, you go ahead and try.”

You want to say, ‘well your bloodied up face begs to differ’ but you don’t, “Dean told me.”

“About?” He sneers.

You chew on the inside of your cheek, “How you feel.”

His eyes drop, he leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees, “Great.”

“Sam, I-,” you don’t know what to say, “I know it doesn’t make it any better but I thought we had a chance, you know? You knew me and the life, b-.”

“But now you went and claimed my fucking brother,” He cuts you off, the bitterness of his tone hitting you.

“It isn’t like that Sam, it isn’t like I did it on purpose to hurt you.”

“Well that’s what it feels like,” he mumbles, burying his face into his hands, “I spent all those years watching you go through guy after guy.”

“Why didn’t you man up and say something?”

“Would it have mattered?”

You swallow hard, “Not now. Not anymore.”

It quiet and then he starts laughing, but it’s dry and humorless.

“What?”

He looks up, this weird smirk on his face that for some reason makes you sick, “The funny thing is, if he wouldn’t have met you for one more month…”

“What are you talking about?”

He just keeps on going, ignoring you, “We wouldn’t be having this argument right now, you would be mine.”

“I’m not yours to have,” you growl, feeling the tiny hairs on the back of your neck stand up. He’s pushing it, “What happens in one month?’’

Sam stands up, towering over you, “What? You guys didn’t have time to talk about that in between screwing each other’s brains out?”

You take the step forward, standing toe to toe with him, “Tell me what happens next month!”

Sam bends down, growling into your ear, “Dean will be gone.”

“What are you talking about?” You don’t want to hear this, he’s just trying to get you to take a swing, he has to be.

“Dean sold his soul, the bill is due.”

“No,” you shake your head, feeling like you are going to fall apart, “You’re lying, you are just trying to-.”

“Go ask him.” Sam takes a step back, holding his hands up.

“No!” Your voice raises.

“He sold his soul to bring me back.”

“No!”

“You’re going to be all by yourself again, and this time, I’m not sticking around to help you out.”

You want to kill him, you want to tackle him to the ground and rip his lungs out through his throat. He’s lying, he’s trying to get you to do something that will make Dean leave you, that’s it, it’s gotta be and that’s what you are going to tell yourself.

“You know what Sam? Go fuck yourself! Go jump off a fucking cliff, I’m done with you. Fuck off!” You turn on your heel, heading back to the motel, fuming. You can’t believe the shit he has put you through, and you don’t care what the reason is.

But what if he isn’t lying? Just that little thought sends you into this unknown feeling of emptiness, nothingness mixed with doubt and anger and about ten other emotions you don’t have names for.

Dean rushes out the door, meeting you in the parking lot, “Y/N! What the hell happened? Where’s Sam? Are you alright?”

For the first time you realize you are crying, sobbing, the tears rolling freely down your cheeks.

“Y/N? What’s going on?” He holds onto your shoulders, his face searching yours wildly.

“Did you do it?” You demand.

“What are you talking about?”

You grab his t-shirt, fisting the fabric, “Did you sell your fucking soul?”

He swallows hard, eyes in shock, stumbling over his words, “Y/N, I-you…”

“Did you fucking sell your soul for your brother?” You scream through the tears.

His face falls, eyes unable to meet yours.

“Tell me Omega,” you growl, ordering it.

He flinches, “Yes.”


	7. Part 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean’s deal shatters you and you can’t handle the pain

Everything you have found is torn away from you on that asphalt in the middle of fucking nowhere, “No.”

“I didn’t know you existed sweetheart, I-,”

“You fucking son of a bitch!” You yell, wanting to strangle him and hold onto him with everything you have at the same time.

You let go of him, covering your face, wiping away the tears as you shift from foot to foot, so incredibly unsure, “But I-I just found you…No.”

Dean closes the distance, wrapping his arms around you, pulling you to his chest. And to both of your surprises, you let him, let him hold you together.

“I’m going to figure it out,” you mumble against him.

“It’s not your problem to figure out.”

You scoff, “The hell it’s not, your my omega. I’m not going to let you die, let alone go to hell.”

Dean shakes his head, “Let’s get inside before people start wondering what’s going on.”

There are only a half dozen other cars parked in the lot, but you know from experience one call to the cops will have you in handcuffs. Most people were generally suspicious of you.

When Dean gets you inside you both sit down at the table, and neither of you know where to start, fuck it’s literally been less than forty-eight hours since you knocked on that door.

You watch each other, not saying a word until Dean grimaces, “Sam was dead, I watched him die and I didn’t know what to do. The fucking demon only gave me a year.”

You close your eyes, trying to control yourself, “That’s the shittiest deal I’ve ever heard.”

“Why did it matter?”

Your brow furrows, “What? You’re-?

“A male omega,” Dean scoffs, “you don’t have any idea how hard that is? Or I guess maybe you do.”

You half laugh, “I think if anyone in this world get’s that, I do.”

Dean forces a pained smile, “You know how lonely it is, how much you feel like an outcast. It didn’t matter if I died, at least Sam would be alive, at least he would have a chance to be happy.”

You get it, you really do, but it doesn’t stop the angry tears from spilling. It doesn’t stop you from growling low in your throat when he reaches out to touch your hand. What are you supposed to do with one month? One single fucking month.

The anger rots inside of you, you stand up quickly, flipping the table over, tipping it and spilling the things sitting on top, Dean jumping back in surprise. You can’t help it, tossing your chair to the side, storming out the door, you don’t want him to see you like this.

“Y/N!” He calls after you, but you don’t stop, don’t listen to him. You start walking, the gravel crunching under your feet as your nails dig into the palms of your hands. You’ve never been this pissed in your entire life, it blinds you and you can’t think about anything past it.

You feel like an animal, maybe you are.

There is just nothingness and pain.

You don’t notice when it starts to pour rain, you don’t recognize as your clothes soak through. You don’t even know how you made it to this bar or when the bottle in front of you is three quarters gone until the person beside you asks if you are alright. That is all it takes for you to snap.

You grab him by the back of his head, slamming it forward off the bar with a sickening crack. Someone jumps you from behind but you are too drunk, too insane with the rage to take real notice. You elbow him, twisting out of his grip, your hand wrapping around his throat as you turn, everything around you becoming a wild blur as you punch and kick.

The next thing you know someone is underneath you, your hands bloodied and bruised and you rip at his face. None of it matters, nothing overcomes this instinct within you to keep fighting. Everything just fades into an empty, angry black.

So when you half sit up, your body half underwater, a shooting pain in your side and a killer headache, you are a little more than confused.

It’s still raining, water dumping from the dark sky. You see lights, hear the rumble of an engine. You’re in a flooded ditch, water shooting out of the culvert a little ways from you, lightning cracking through the sky, the thunder rumbling soon after.

Trying to get up, the pain that has been shooting through your side, stings worse, keeping you from standing. Your feet slip sending you tumbling back down with a splash that is barely audible over the storm. The pain you feel when your body hits the ground makes you have to fight blacking out.

“Fuck.” You groan, digging in your pockets, finding your phone. Of course the thing is dead, probably drowned in the water like you will, not that it matters, what is the fucking point anymore? The second you had found everything, it was being ripped from you. So what the hell is the point of even trying?

You’re getting cold, unable to feel your fingertips anymore as the predawn light shows behind the clouds and the downpour turns to a drizzle. Your eyes fall shut as the sky turns pink, barely able to pull yourself up the grass enough to keep your head above the water, your breaths coming in shaky gasps.

“Y/N!” You hear it, the shout, but it has to be in your head, all in your head because this is it for you. You didn’t have anything to fight for anymore.

Splashing, running feet pulls your eyes open, Dean dropping down next to you, his hand cupping your face, “Jesus fucking Christ….Sam!”

“No,” you murmur, shaking your head.

“Easy, we are going to get you fixed up. It’s okay.” He let’s his head fall, his forehead pressing against yours and you can physically feel the tension leave his body. You close your eyes, pressing your forehead harder against his, that point of contact, that pressure giving you something to hold to.

“You said you wouldn’t leave,” he whispers, his body shaking and in that moment you want nothing more than to comfort him, to pull him against you.

“I wasn’t Omega, I won’t.” You breath, your hand finding his shirt, holding onto it with everything you have.

His arms wrap around you, lifting you out of the water, holding you to his chest. Dean makes his way out of the ditch, but you can’t focus on anything but his face.

“Touch her and I break your hand,” Dean growls, Sam must be standing there, “just open the damn door.”

He sets you in the backseat, crawling in with you, cradling you against him.

“I’m sorry,” you choke out, starting to cry as his warmth seeps into your cold bones, “I’m sorry. I won’t leave again. I won’t ever leave you.” you repeat over and over again.

“Shh,” he kisses the top of your head, holding you closer, “I’m gonna get you fixed up, it will be fine.”

The guilt you feel over him having to say that to you is unreal and makes you sob harder.

“I told you she is out of control,” Sam snaps as the Impala turns.

“Shut the fuck up.” Dean snarls back, “What the fuck did you expect to happen?”

“She’s an Alpha-,”

“She’s my Alpha,” Dean’s voice verges on uncontainable rage, “and you dropped a bomb on her in rut, what the fuck were you thinking?”

“I wasn’t, okay!” Sam yells, throwing the car into park, the jostle making you wince, “I didn’t think she would put seven guys in the hospital and wind up with a side full of buckshot!”

That’s why your side hurt so bad, dammit. Dean hops out of the car, reaching for you but you half wave him off, trying to get out on your own. You make it almost two steps before your legs give out and Dean picks you up again, rushing you into the motel room.

He sets you on the table, pulling up your shirt, “Fuck.”

You cringe, the fabric pulling where it is embedded in your skin, “That bad?”

Dean looks down at you, “It is going to take me awhile to clean this up.”

You nod, “Th-that’s okay….Just talk to me, how’d you find me?”

Dean grabs a few things, shooting a glare at what you assume is Sam but you can’t take your eyes off of him to check. He pulls a chair beside you, pouring a glass of whiskey, dunking tweezers into it before going to work on you, “You ran off and I thought you would be back soon. Sam came back when it started to rain, but you still weren’t here.”

You wince, hearing the metallic clink of him dropping the bebe he had just pulled from you.

“Anyways, we went to the closest bar, there was an ambulance pulling out and no one was fessing up to who did it. Apparently no one wanted to admit that a chick beat their ass.”

You half laugh, trying to cover up the cringe as he digs.

“I found one of the guy’s buddies, found out he had threatened to shoot, you attacked him, he actually shot and left you for dead in a ditch. So Sam and me started looking. Do you remember any of it?”

You shake your head, grinding your teeth against the pain, “I remember being at the bar and the fight starting, I-.” Words fail you, how can you tell him you were so pissed off at what he had done that you blacked out.

“Y/N?” He asks, making sure you are still here with him.

“I blacked a lot of it out, I must have been really drunk. I just remember being in that ditch last night and the cold.”

“I’m sorry Y/N,” he becomes sulky, face falling as he concentrates on your side again.

You reach out, cupping his chin and making him look at you, “It isn’t your fault that I’m a wreck Dean.”

“You shouldn’t have had to find out like that.”

“Where you even going to tell me?” You whisper.

His eyes fall away from yours, “I didn’t know how to.”

“I’m going to figure this out Dean, I’m not going to let you die.”

“I’m not either,” Sam’s voice comes from behind you and you are finally able to tear your eyes away from your omega, seeing Sam standing in the corner, his arms crossed but he gives you a firm nod, “I’m not letting my brother go anywhere.”

* * *


	8. Part 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You and Dean try to find a way out of his deal

You lay there in the dim light staring at Dean’s face, memorizing it. After he had patched you up he kicked Sam out of the room. He’s still pissed at him, you can’t bring yourself to care about that.

For an omega, he’s a hothead. You can’t say you’ve ever met anyone like him, which is probably why the two of you fit like pieces in the middle of a puzzle that you can’t figure out until the end.

His nose brushes against yours as he leans in, pressing his forehead against yours, his eyes falling shut, “Are you sure you don’t want any pain meds? We have a ton stashed in the car.”

“I’m fine,” you whisper sleepily, allowing your eyes to close. It’s mid afternoon but neither of you have slept yet, you don’t really want to, but exhaustion is overtaking you.

You press your lips to his, just barely moving them until he responds, growling low and pushing himself into it, kissing you slowly. His fingers brush the stray hairs away from your face, just barely ghosting over your skin.

When you gasp for breath your side stings, leaving you groaning in pain. Dean stops, keeping you from kissing him again, “Get some rest, we’ve got plenty of time.”

“We’ve only got a month,” you grimace.

He chuckles, “I thought you were going to save me.”

You nuzzle against his neck, and even though it’s a submissive gesture, it doesn’t feel that way when he wraps his arms around you. It’s comfort, “I will.”

___

Dean’s lips pressing against your neck over and over is what wakes you, your head cloudy with sleep, “Hmm?”

“You ready to blow this town?”

“Mhm,” you mumble, looking around the room, you have no idea what time it is until you look at the clock and it reads 7:32 AM, “Fuck, sorry.”

“It’s alright, I’m not in any hurry,” he stretches against you, pressing his face against yours.

You nuzzle against him, the guilt of the last few days rushing over you, “I’m sorry I’m a mess.”

He pulls back, shaking his head, “You’re no worse than me.”

You reach out, touching his face, Dean leaning into the contact,  “Where are we going?”

Dean sighs, “Well you and Sam are hell bent on saving me, and he said he’s got a lead.”

You nod, kissing his cheek before sitting up and getting off the bed.

“I brought your clothes in, they are on the table.” Dean points.

“Thanks.” You grab the first pair of clean clothes you can find and head for the shower. You strip the t-shirt Dean had helped you into last night, pulling off the bandage, examining your side in the mirror after you turn on the water. It’s not as bad as it could have been, you’djust been grazed. There was a lot of bruising, some of the spots still oozing a little blood. Your knuckles are cut and black and blue. You can definitely tell someone got in a couple good shots to your face, your cheekbone swollen enough that the skin split. Surprisingly enough, this isn’t the worst you’ve ever had, not by a long shot.

Stepping under the warm water, the open cuts sting, but you push down the pain, letting it keep you calm as you wash away the last few days, letting yourself focus on the days ahead.

You are going to save Dean Winchester, nothing is going to stop you, and God or whoever better help anyone who gets in your fucking way.

____

It takes over a week for the three of you to settle into a civil routine. You’ve almost snapped out at Sam a few times, but because of Dean, you reign it in. Dean has pretty much filled you in on everything up until this point, a few parts that make you cringe, but for the most part you stay relatively calm.

Unfortunately, you haven’t been able to find a motel where Sam’s lead is, so you are squatting in an abandoned house on some old back road. You sit against the wall, ankles crossed and an old lore book on your lap. Dean is sitting over on the steps, and you can’t help but watch him every little bit, the way his eyes skim the pages, the way he chews on the end of the pen, little things that you notice.

He catches you watching, a small smirk crossing his face. You smile in return, going back to the book. You are here because supposedly someone had avoided a demon deal because of immortality. Quite honestly, you think it is a dead end, a load of shit, but Sam ifs adamant.

“Why this town Sam?” You mumble.

“I told you, I had a lead.”

“Yeah,” you shut the book, tossing it to the side, “That’s why we are sitting here flipping through books.

You tap the ground with your fingers then push yourself up, “I’m going to the bar, I need a drink.”

“I’m right behind you,” Dean says, marking his page and closing the book.

He falls into stride with you and you glance up, a playful smile crossing your lips, “You sure you want to go to a bar with me?”

“Why not?” He chuckles, opening up the door of the Impala.

“Because I don’t think I’ve ever made it out of one without there being some sort of bar fight. Hell, the last time I got shot.”

Dean busts out laughing, “Well at least it won’t be a dull night.”

“You’re gonna regret sayin’ that,” you chuckle, Dean driving to the first bar he finds.

“This okay?” It is a backroad biker bar, a little on the wrong side of shady.

“Do I look like the girl who goes to anything else?” You get out, waiting for him to catch up. Dean takes your hand, but stays with you, not even a half a step behind, letting you take lead.

His arm wraps around your waist as you walk in, heading for the bar. You each take a stool side by side, ordering a round of whiskey, then another. You take a deep breath, throwing back the shot, letting it burn the entire way down.

“You alright?” He asks quietly, voice low.

You nod, “Yeah, I’m just better when there is something I can kill or punch, you know?”

He laughs low, “Yeah, I get that.”

It’s hot in here and you ditch the flannel, setting it on the back of your chair, wearing just your black tank. You and Dean swap some stories, slowly getting a buzz and then tipping the scale towards drunk.

“I’ll be right back, gotta hit the head,” he says, ordering another round for you before he gets up and heads towards the back.

You stretch in your chair, for the first time in a long time feeling relaxed, and you have him to thank for that.  And even though the thought of losing him is creeping there, always present in the back of your mind, it isn’t at the forefront right now.

But that contentment, that happiness, it only lasts until you feel someone slide in the seat to your left, “Hey there honey.”

Jesus fucking christ, “Go away.”

“Now what’s a sweet little omega like you doing in a place like this?”

You can’t help it, you start to laugh, “You got the wrong girl.”

“I don’t think I do, you smell…” he takes a deep breath, and it makes sense. You and Dean have been inseparable, his Omega scent would be all over you and your clothing. This stranger had just mistaken it for your own.

You put up your hands, “I just want to be left alone. Walk away.”

“An unclaimed omega in a place like this? Sounds to me like you are looking for something there honey.”

The realization hits you and you look down at your shoulder. You had claimed Dean but in the chaos of it all, he hadn’t claimed you. And suddenly you feel doubt, and self conscious, like you are naked in the middle of a room full of people. You’ve never felt like this, “Get away from me.”

He reaches out to touch you as you feel a strong arm wrap around you from behind, Dean’s scent invading your nose, pulling you behind him, “Buddy, trust me, you’ll lose that hand.”

The man sneers up at him, making himself as big as possible, “And I suppose you’re gonna do that.”

You touch Dean’s arm, gripping it and he immediately looks down at you, eyes softening.

“I won’t have to,” Dean chuckles, “she will.”

The man looks between the two of you, noticing how Dean lets you step out front, how he stopped when you touched him, how his head is dipped toward you, watching you carefully. The realization slowly crosses his face, “You’re an alpha.”

Your jaw clenches, glancing carefully around the room to see heads turning as they hear the conversation. The guy starts laughing, his attention turning to Dean, “And that makes you an omega,” he howls, “so this pretty little thing says jump and you ask how high? Man you ar-.”

He doesn’t get to finish his sentence, not when you feel the anger course through you, the protective instinct, and you grab him by the hair, slamming his head down against the bar top, “Shut your fucking mouth.”

“Whoa, whoa Y/N,” Dean grabs you, pulling you away from the guy even though you struggle in his hands. You want to tear the guy’s face off.  

“You crazy fucking bitch,” he spats through the blood.

“Y/N, look at me,” Dean says and you do, and as soon as you meet those mossy green eyes, your heart stops pounding in your chest, the rage ebs, “Let’s get out of here.”

You nod, allowing him to lead you out of the bar, his hand grounding you as it squeezes. The cool air hits your face and you stop dead, “Dean…”

“Hey, hey, hey,” he turns, seeing your distress, cupping your chin, “it’s not like that, not with us. We’re different.”

He thinks that’s what’s bothering you, that that jackass offended Dean. But in your head that’s taken care of, it was when his head was bleeding on the bartop.

You nod quickly, sucking in a shaky breath. You need to pull yourself together, you need to do it for him but that asshole’s words keep ringing in your ears ‘unclaimed’, “Yeah, you’re my Omega, but am I your Alpha?”

“What are you talkin’ about?”

“This,” you put your hand on his shoulder, where his claim mark is, “we’ve known for over two weeks and you still haven’t-…”

“I can’t Y/N,” he chokes, “I can’t do that to you.”

Your heart breaks in your chest, “You don’t want me?”

He swallows hard, “Fuck, that’s not what I meant… I want to Y/N, I want to with everything I’ve got but I can’t claim you like that, not wh-…Not when I’m going to die.”

“I’m your Alpha,” you fist his shirt.

“For ten more days…I want you to be happy, I want you to fi-…”

“Goddammit Dean I can’t!” you shout, “I’ve waited my entire life to find you, you’re my Omega. I don’t want to find someone else, I want you. Fuck, I only want you… My Omega.”

He sighs, “I wish like hell I wasn’t.”


	9. Part 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean’s deal is coming due and you are powerless to stop it

_He sighs, “I wish like hell I wasn’t.”_

Your heart breaks in your chest, you can’t breathe, you can barely get the words out, “You wish you weren’t my Omega?”

Those words don’t feel right coming out of your mouth, they taste like poison, they feel like you are going to fall apart.

His sad green eyes meet yours, rimmed in red, the tears right at the edge, “Yes.”

It feels like everything is getting ripped away, like someone is tearing you in half, “Dean, I-I can’t, we are-…”

“Soulmates? Yeah, and I wish like hell I wasn’t putting you through this. I wish I wasn’t your Omega so you didn’t have to. I don’t want this for you, I want you to be hap-”

“That’s my job,” you cut him off, “it’s my job to protect you and keep you safe, and not let anything happen and I failed.”

He half laughs, “Do you think for a second we would be mates if it were that one sided?”

You look down at the ground, feeling hopeless and empty instead of pissed, “No.”

“Y/N, I’ve seen what it does to an Alpha to lose an Omega, I saw my dad go through it when he lost my mom, and they weren’t even like us… And knowing that I’m going to put you through that? I can’t even look at myself in the damn mirror.”

“Dean,” you whisper, closing the distance between you. He can’t meet your eyes, even when you place your hands on either side of his face, “Look at me Omega.”

His chest shudders and slowly his eyes meet yours, full of guilt and shame. You run your thumbs over the stubble, “Do you really think I could belong to anyone else?”

He half smiles, pressing his forehead against yours, “I just want you to be okay.”

“I know Dean. I will be because I’m not going to lose you. I belong with you, I’m your Alpha.”

He catches your lips with his, kissing you firmly and you can physically feel it, his want, his need to believe your words in the way his lips move. His desperation makes your gut hurt and your heart pound.

“C’mon,” he mumbles against your lips, his fingers sliding with yours, pulling you towards the car.

Dean opens the back door, holding it open while you crawl in before him. You barely make it on the seat before his warm body is against you, the door slamming shut.

For the first time in your life, you feel shy, small, maybe just a little afraid as Dean touches your face. No one has ever, ever touched you as gently as Dean does, no one’s ever looked at you like him, like you’re the only thing in the world.

“De-…”

“Shh,” he whispers, his fingers running along the edges of your shirt as he rests his forehead against yours, “let me.”

His fingers slip under the edge of your shirt, tugging it up your body, tossing it to the floor. You push at his flannel, trying to get it off his shoulders as he presses hot kisses down your neck and over your chest.  

You moan low, Dean pushing you back against the cool leather. He pulls his t-shirt over his head and that’s the only moment his hands leave your body. You pull him down, your fingers tangling in his short hair, pressing your lips to his.

He groans, deep in his chest as he shoves your jeans down your legs, helping you kick them off, you pushing his off his waist, exposing his skin, fumbling in the confined space until you are both naked against one another.

Dean kisses your bare skin and your fingers press into his as you grind against each other, his cock hard against your pussy, the head bumping your clit, making you whimper underneath him.

“Dean,” you moan, begging him for more. And you don’t know what the fuck you are doing, you don’t beg, you don’t plead, fuck, you don’t whimper when you need something. But then again, you’ve never made love with someone and you get the feeling that is exactly what this is.

Hell, you’ve never loved anyone.

But fuck, you love Dean.

And he’s so sweet, and tender you swear you go into shock, you must because you freeze solid as he slides into you and bottoms out, stretching you in the most perfect way that only he can.

“Y/N?” His nose brushes against yours as he looks worriedly over your face, “Alpha?”

You’re not breathing, you can’t, you’re going to lose him, the only good thing you’ve ever had. No one is ever going to touch you like this again, no one is ever going to look at you like that, you’re never going to love someone like this.

He brushes your hair away from your face, “Everything is going to be okay.”

You shake your head back and forth, trying to bury the tears. No it’s not, you should be comforting him, you shouldn’t be breaking apart.

He catches your chin, making you look at him, “I’m going to make everything okay, starting with what I should have done the first time.”

His hips rock, his cock dragging almost all the way out before he pushes himself back in your fluttering pussy, his pelvic bone pressing against your clit. You shake around him as he fills you up, your legs trembling as he pushes your thighs farther apart.

“Dean…Omega,” you moan against his skin, his sweat mixing with yours, his warm body grounding you in the back seat of the Impala, the rest of the world fading away as your hips move to meet his. There is nothing for you except for him.

He moves slowly, deliberately, his hips thrusting as your moans mix with his, your lips barely leaving each others. Dean drives you higher, each time he pushes into you his cock hits that spot that makes you insane.

“Alpha,” he growls low, his lips moving along your jaw and down your neck, your entire body shaking as his thrusts become more desperate, a little erratic.

You hold tight to his broad shoulders, every part of you filled with this slow burn that leaves you trembling underneath him, “D-Dean…”

“Shh,” his teeth scrape your neck, nipping as he works his way down to where it meets your shoulder. You whimper as he touches the skin there, his warm breath fanning over it as you feel the pressure build in your lower belly.

His hips rock harder, the sound of skin on wet skin filling the small space as your contracting pussy makes it harder and harder for him to move. You want him buried in you so bad, you need it.

He grunts, your walls clenching around him as you teeter on the edge, his cock throbbing inside you. Dean thrust forward hard, his teeth sinking into your flesh, claiming you as his, and you come undone around him, your back arching off the leather as you call out for him.

Dean spills inside of you, his cock jumping in your fluttering pussy that holds him deep within you, knotting him as he collapses on top of you, his weight warm and welcome. You continue to shake and tremble underneath him, the intensity of what just happened taking you over and leaving your brain a little fuzzy.

Dean’s lips move against you, around his bite mark as he flips the two of you to your sides, you between his large body and the back of the seat, your leg hooked high over his hip. His fingers trace your face and you can’t look away from his olive eyes in the dim moonlight.

You touch his chin, feeling the stubble under your fingertips and never in your life have you felt more at ease than you do in this moment, “My Omega.”

He smiles, turning his head so he can press his lips to your palm, “My Alpha.”

Dean reaches behind him to the floor, pulling an old blanket over the two of you, neither able to go anywhere for awhile, not that you would if you could. You let him wrap his arms around you and you nuzzle your face against his claiming mark. Dean mirrors you, pressing his nose against yours.

And in that moment you truly believe everything is going to be alright. You are going to save Dean.

_______

Two days left and you don’t believe it anymore. You’ve been ass deep in demon blood and guts trying to find the son of a bitch, trying to get Dean off the hook, but nothing, not a damn thing.

The one tied to the chair in front of you, Dean’s got no idea about, and you aren’t going to answer your phone that keeps buzzing in your pocket either.

“Take me instead!” You insist as the blood drips to the floor. If you can’t get rid of the contract, you aren’t going to let Dean die, you can’t. You’re going to die without him anyways so why not give him a chance?

“No can do,” it gurgles, spitting out the blood that has pooled in its mouth.

You want to punch it again but you know it isn’t going to do any good. The thing’s face is swollen beyond recognition and your knuckles are split open, “Let me trade spots, you’re still getting a fucking soul.”

“I can’t do that! I don’t hold the contract.”

You bury the knife in your hand into its side, the blade sliding through the resistance of tissue making you feel better as it bounces off one of his ribs, letting the sensation get you back in control, “Then give me who fucking does, call ‘em up.”

“I can’t do that!” It screams as you twist the knife a quarter turn, holding the demon still, making it take it.

“Name, asshole!” You shout, sticking your thumb into an earlier wound hard, the thing thrashing around in pain. It goes on and on like this for hours until you are too angry to deal with him anymore, and leave it in the devil’s trap, not even bothering to exorcise it.

It’s not a long drive back to the shabby motel the three of you are staying at and when Dean’s eyes meet yours, you know he knows what you have been up to, but he doesn’t say anything. He just closes the distance between you, wrapping his arms around your shoulders, pulling you to his chest.

“It’s okay Y/N,” he whispers in your ear, “we’ve still got some time.”

“It’s only two days Dean,” you can feel yourself start to go numb again, it’s been happening more and more lately. You get so pissed that something inside you snaps and you just can’t feel anything.

Sam clears his throat from the table. He’s worked with you over the last weeks, just like he promised, hell, he’s almost been the Sam you remember from before, “What’s our next play?”

You let go of Dean, shaking your head, “I don’t know.”

“I’m only finding stuff that can hold them off, nothing permanent.” He mutters, shutting the book in front of him, “I’m supposed to call Bobby soon and see what he’s found.”

You nod, the nights of no sleep catching up to you, “I’m going to cleanup and crash for an hour or two.”

In the bathroom you get a quick shower, enough to wash the blood out of your hair and off your skin. By the time you’re dressed and back in the room, the boys are packing their bags. Dean hears you, glancing your way, “We are going to head to Bobby’s, he says he’s got a lead.”

“Okay,” you grip his arm as you pass, it meant to be a reassuring gesture to him but he wraps his arm around you, pulling you to his chest and kissing the top of your head. You don’t miss the grimace from Sam.

“This one is going to work,” Dean whispers in your ear, but his voice doesn’t sound right. It’s forced, like he’s trying to sound hopeful for your sake.

“Let’s just get moving,” you swallow hard, grabbing your bag and heading for the door, trying to push down the anger. You’re so pissed, but you aren’t mad at anyone but yourself and how miserably you have failed.

You spend the entire ride sitting in the front next to Dean, staring out the window then at him, trying not to fall asleep until you finally do.

“Y/N,” Dean shakes you lightly and you jump, looking around, your heart pounding in your chest. You look around, the familiar house that you haven’t seen since you were little standing there. You haven’t seen Bobby in probably fifteen years, maybe more. All your memories are just being dropped here while your parents went hunting.

Sam takes off for the porch steps, it makes the hairs on the back of your neck stand. The only reason you keep control is Dean doesn’t push, he stays right with you, a half a step behind.

Bobby opens the door and he looks just like you remember him, hell, you think that might be the same baseball cap. He pulls Sam into a bear hug before looking at you and Dean, “Hey kid, it’s been awhile.”

You nod, “Hi Bobby.”

Anyone else would have moved to hug you, make the mistake and you wonder why he doesn’t. Then you realize you’d moved in front of Dean, keeping yourself between him and the other two, your stance unintentionally protective.

“Sorry,” you mumble, taking a half step to the side, crossing your arms in front of you.

He looks curiously between you and Dean, his eyes coming back to you, “I told your folks what you were gonna be and they didn’t believe me. It’s not like shippin’ you off was going to change a damn thing.”

“Wish they would have believed you,” you mumble, and Dean wraps his arm around your waist.

“Well, c’mon in, I’ve got some stuff in the basement that should help us out.”

Sam and Bobby lead the way, talking. Dean’s fingers slide in yours, holding tight the whole way through the house. It’s a little weird, but you just chalk it up to the fact that he’s getting down to the deadline, he’s holding on, and fuck, you wish like hell he didn’t have to feel this way.

You just want him to feel safe.

“Balls,” Bobby stops dead, “I forgot a book upstairs, just go through that door, I got everything set up.”

Sam watches Bobby head back towards the stairs and you go ahead, letting go of Dean to grab the heavy metal door, walking first into the circular room that looks more like a dungeon than a place for research.

“I’m sorry,” Dean whispers and you jump around at the metallic clank, the door shutting heavily, a bolt sliding.

“Dean?” You shout, rushing over, trying the handle but it won’t move, “Dean!”

Your breaths come in short gasps, full panic setting in, “Dean! What’s going on? Dean!”

“Y/N,” his voice sounds choked and there is a small slot you can look through. He’s standing right on the other side, his face drawn and strained, his mouth moving like he can’t find words.

“Dean, let me out,” your panic slowly turning to anger.

“No, I-I’m not going to let you die too.”

“Dean, I’m not,” you pound your fists off the metal, “it’s going to be okay…Let me out goddammit!”

“I can’t,” he struggles.

“Let me out Omega!” You scream, clawing at the door, pulling the handle.

Dean flinches, and Sam grabs him, keeping him from doing it, “You wanted her safe, this is how she is.”

“Sam,” your anger turns to him, “you fucker, let me out. I can save him.”

But he ignores you, still talking to Dean, “She will kill herself trying to save you if you let her out.”  
  


“If you don’t let me out he will die,” but your words are lost as a tear slides down Dean’s cheek. He swallows hard, but nods firmly, turning his back and walking away.


	10. Part 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean leaves you in the panic room and midnight approaches

“No! Dean, I will help…” you pound on the iron door, the skin on your fists splitting, blood leaking from them, “Dean, don’t leave me!”

You can see him hesitate as he reaches the bottom of the stairs, “Dean, you said you wouldn’t leave me.”

Sam grabs him, pushing him towards the steps. You swallow hard, punching the door, the crack filling the empty air, “No! Fuck you Sam!”

They disappear and tears stream down your face as the pit in your stomach grows. He left you, you can’t protect him if you aren’t there. Fuck, your heart pounds and you feel like you are going to puke, you can’t protect him, you can’t help your Omega and it feels wrong.

“Dean,” you whine quietly, for the first time looking around the room, trying to find some way out. There’s nothing except some old books on a desk, a clock that ticks away and a cot. You eye the empty gun rack and that’s when it dawns on you. They had planned this, no, Sam planned this and convinced Dean it was for the best, and Dean would do anything he could to keep you from killing yourself.

But he is going to die without you and the minutes tick by bringing midnight closer.

You inspect the cot, determined, and start working at the bolts, your fingertips bleeding from trying to hold the nut still as you twist. You begin repeating his name over and over, the one thing that is keeping you focused to keep you going.

Finally, you are able to break the one bar off, taking it with you to the door and jamming it in the crack. You lean against it, trying to use the level to gain advantage, pushing all your body weight into it until you hear a creak.

“No, no, no,” you scream as the bar bends in half, the door not budging. Fuck, you get angry, madder than you’ve ever been in your entire life, your vision clouded in spots of black and red. You pull it out, swinging it like a baseball bat with everything you have again and again, the metal on metal sounds mixing with your screams until it snaps where it was bent.

“Fuck,” you toss it across the room, going back to tearing at the door with your bloodied fingers.

“Dean!” You yell for the thousandth time, your voice hoarse and hurting. It’s been hours, hell, it’s dark and it is two minutes to midnight.

You’ve cried so much you don’t have anymore tears left, your entire body hurts, there’s barely skin left of your hands, knuckles raw, blood dripping onto the floor. You slide down against the wall, falling to your side, curling up. You’ve never felt so helpless, and you thought you’d known what emptiness felt like, it wasn’t anything like this. This is a big, black nothingness that consumes you.

You try to hold yourself together with your arms as the final seconds tick away, the blood from your hands and arms soaking into your clothes.

Five, four, three, two… one.

“Dean,” you sob, your entire body shaking, “Dean.”

You’re cold, your entire body going numb, your face pressed against the concrete until it feels like your cheek is molded to it and numb. You stare at a spot on the brown wall, a rusted bolt, until it blurs with the rest of the wall.

You’re shattered, lying there on the damp floor, there is nothing left for you, you’re alone again. But this time it’s different. You didn’t know what you were missing before, you didn’t know what it was like to love someone, to want to be with them, to feel that need in your bones. Now it’s gone, you can feel it as you see his face in your mind, he’s not coming back to you.

You don’t know how long you are there, you stop seeing, stop thinking, letting everything fade to nothing.

But there has got to be something because you’ve never felt pain like this, you’ve never felt like you were were being torn apart from the inside. You begin to hyperventilate, your heart pounding until you can’t breathe, unable to pull any air into your lungs, and instead of fighting it, you allow it to consume you, passing out as black spots cloud your vision.

The door creaks and for a brief moment, you feel hope, a small flame in the bottom of your heart, but as soon as you see Sam’s tear stained face and bloody shirt, it is snuffed out. You don’t make a sound, rolling away from him on the hard floor, facing the wall and letting the grief consume you.

“Y/N?”

You don’t respond, how can you? So you just lay there, stiff as a board, unable to move.

“Y/N, he’s-I-I promised him I would…” and Sam Winchester touches your shoulder and it all falls into place.

You move quickly, jumping up, grabbing his wrist and twisting it. This all his fault.

You push him back so hard he stumbles, putting his hands up, trying to show you he doesn’t want to fight, “Y/N, please…”

You don’t care. He convinced Dean to lock you in this damn room. You growl low, closing the distance and swinging, leaving Sam on the defense, trying to defend himself against you as he forgets where he is, tumbling backwards over the cot.

“Y/N,” he tries to cover his face as you pounce, pinning him down, slugging him as hard as you can, the contact of his cheekbone with your raw knuckles sending pain up your arm that only fuels your rage. He’s the one Dean sold his soul for.

You scream, punching him again and again as he tries to protect his face. It hurts like hell every time your knuckles slam against him but you don’t care, pain like this pales in the face of the pain of losing Dean and Sam is the reason your Omega is dead.

“Goddammit Y/N, you’re gonna kill him,” Bobby’s arms wrap around you from the back, pulling you off of Sam.

You scream, trying to rip your arms from his grasp as he hollers, “Sam get off your ass and help!”

Bobby struggles to keep your arms pinned behind your back as Sam jumps up, helping him hold you in place even though you struggle.

“Kid you listen to me,” Bobby grunts, “Dean made his own decisions.”

“No!” You shout, the pain eating at you from the inside, slowly turning sour.

You rip your arm free, taking another swing at Sam, fist making contact before Bobby can grab you again. You feel the metal cuff sling around your wrist, locking in place and they twist your arms behind your back before you can break free.

Bobby looks you in the eyes, gripping your shoulders, “Y/N, you gotta listen, he’s gone and tryna’ kill Sam ain’t gonna change that.”

“He’s gone,” you wail, sliding to the floor in a heap, your back against the cot, arms jammed behind you, “He’s g-gone.”

Your heart clenches, and it feels like someone is twisting a knife in it as you start to shake, cold and alone.

“Y/N,” Sam’s voice is low, barely more than a whisper as he kneels down in front of you, touching your shoulder, “I’m sorry, I tried.”

You know he’s sincere, that he wouldn’t let his brother die just to spite you, but any compassion, any words of comfort are shadowed by your grief and pain. The only thing you can find yourself saying is laced in venom, “I can’t forgive you.”

He swallows hard, nodding, “I know.”


	11. Part 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean’s death leaves you spiraling dangerously

**September 19th:**

Your skin feels like it’s on fire and it doesn’t matter that you are in a single layer and jeans, you feel like it’s a hundred degrees in this seedy ass bar. The next person to look at you, you swear you will rip their throat out with your bare hands.

You’ve been agitated since yesterday afternoon, and it took awhile for you to realize that you’ve gone into rut, but it isn’t like before. Now instead of wanting to fuck everything, it just adds fuel to the fire, to the anger and bitterness.

Others in the bar can smell it on you, you didn’t bother to cover it up, why should you? Betas cringe away, the couple of omegas in here stare at you with wide eyes, while the alphas are on edge and there are two in particular that won’t look away, the one meeting your hard gaze, a smirk on his lips.

Yeah, go right ahead and try it asshole.

You know he’s going to, they can’t help it, just like you can’t, it’s hardwired in your system to take on the challenge. You’re looking for it too, you welcome the fights, it is the only time you almost feel like yourself.

You signal for another shot, downing it without a problem. It’s maybe the fifth or sixth of the night and it hasn’t even touched you. As you set the glass back down, he gets up, flanked by his buddy. You never avert your eyes as he walks across the bar, your posture becoming more challenging with the little hairs on your neck standing, showing your teeth in a small snarl.

They are both big, but that’s not something you’ve ever found intimidating. Hell, De- you swallow hard, lost for a second in the thought of your Omega, how big and strong and perfect he was, how much you miss him, how empty you are without him. You grip the glass tight enough it may break in your fingers, your other hand straying to your claiming mark as the loss washes through you, still fresh as the first day.

“Now what have we here,” he growls low, pulling the stool right up to you, sitting down and setting his bottle on the counter. The buddy, the smaller of the two, sits behind you on the other side and even though you can smell the alpha, he’s not going to twitch until his friend says so.

You stare him down, making yourself taller in your seat, “Someone who is gonna kick your ass.”

He takes in a deep breath, ignoring your comment, his brown eyes intent, “I thought I smelt an Alpha in rut, I just didn’t expect it to be such a pretty lil’ thing sitting here.”

“Go the fuck away,” you give him the out, let him back away.

“Mouthy,” he chuckles, snarling a little, “I think what you need is a real alpha to get you back in line.”

You raise an eyebrow, “Oh really?”

He smiles darkly, eyes wandering your body as he grabs your upper arm, “Yeah, fill that little cunt up with an alpha knot and show you where you belong.”

“Sorry, I don’t fuck bitches,” you hiss and his grip tightens. You move faster than he can think, grabbing the neck of his beer bottle, back swinging it against his face, the glass shattering on contact and his grip faltering.

You rip your arm away, dropping what’s left of the bottle, sensing the swing from the one behind, ducking just in time. You scramble, tackling the big one to the ground while he’s searching for you, grunting as he hits the ground hard, wind rushing from his lungs.

You reel back, fist making contact with his jaw and you hear the satisfying crack of teeth breaking. Hands grab you from behind and you throw a good kick into the big one’s ribs. You struggle, trying to rip from the other guy’s grip before the big one can get up, but he’s stronger than you gave him credit for. Even when you try and drop your weight he doesn’t lose his grip. Shit.

You watch as the big guy tries to get up, grabbing the broken bottle. No, no, no. You slam your heel back against the small one’s shin and finally there is enough for you to rip yourself free, but as you get your hand up to protect yourself, the broken glass slices through it.

“Fucker,” you snarl, trying to stay low but he catches you on the upswing, the bottle cutting through the skin of your face, but you don’t back down. You jab, getting him in his exposed throat and he crumbles, unable to breathe as you swing, catching his chin and he is out before he hits the ground.

The buddy growls behind you, tackling you, and you aren’t ready. You’re pinned face down and reach around desperately; he weighs too damn much for you to roll. Your fingertips brush the bottleneck, and as his fist slams into your face you reach for it, trying to concentrate. C’mon, come on.

You grasp it, swinging wildly behind you and as it sinks into his skin he howls, rolling away and you are able to get up. You unsheath the knife you had hidden in your boot, searching the room quickly, seeing if anyone else is itching to join in.

No one looks inclined to move so you put the knife in your jacket, digging in your pockets as you step over the unconscious body of the big alpha.

You slap the money on the bartop, “Just gimme the damn bottle.”

“Don’t you think you’ve had enough?”

“I’ll decide when I’ve had enough,” you growl, sitting high in your seat, snarling and the beta cowers, grabbing the bottle of whiskey and taking the cash before setting it in front of you.

You pour another shot, downing it and then another and another, feeling the burn as it slides down your throat. Unfortunately, the end of this bottle won’t keep the buzz; it’s going to take a lot more to keep the nightmares away tonight.

You press your fingers against your eyes, trying to relieve the pressure from not sleeping, but all you do is see him, see his empty eyes staring back at you.

______

_“Did you burn him?” You breathe, looking up at Sam, scared that he has, scared that he hasn’t.You don’t want to see your Omega like that, but if he has a body, you have a chance, a fighting chance to get him back._

_Sam’s eyes fall away from yours, “He’s in the car.”_

_You pull against the handcuffs, “Let me go, let me go now.”_

_Sam and Bobby share a look, debating, “Let me see him! Let me see my Omega!”_

_“Easy kid,” Bobby kneels beside you, “just don’t rip me apart when these are off, okay?”_

_You nod, your body shaking violently from the effort to stay still until you hear the metallic clinks and the echo as they drop to the floor. You don’t bother to say anything, just jump up and Sam grabs you by your shoulders, “Y/N, you don’t want to see this.”_

_“I have to,” you hold back the whine and sob as you shove him to the side, sprinting to the stairs._

_“Y/N wait!” He calls behind you, but you don’t slow down, just rush through Bobby’s house, you have to, you have to see him._

_But as the warm, spring morning air hits your face and you see the shiny Impala your feet refuse to carry you any further and each step gets harder and harder. Your fingers touch the cool metal handle of the backseat, and it feels like it weighs more than the world as you open it._

_He’s lying there, staring at nothing, his dead green eyes so out of place in the bright sunlight.  His shirt and jacket shredded to nothing, drying blood staining everything. Your legs give out and you cradle his head between your hands, your forehead pressed against his as you sob, “D-dean.”_

_________

Every time you close your eyes you see those empty, olive eyes staring at you. It’s been four months and it just gets worse. You’ve tried everything, tried demon deals, hoodoo, healers, anything you could find… nothing works and the alcohol barely helps anymore.

It’s not that you don’t want to feel, you do, you want to feel anything but pain and emptiness. That’s all there is for you now. Dean’s gone and there is nothing but years and years of loneliness ahead of you.

“Fuck,” you hiss, chugging the last bit out of the bottle, leaving it on the counter. You pull your coat on, heading for the door. There’s a liquor store down the street from where you’ve been staying the last few weeks; you know you are out. It’s only a couple blocks away and it’s not like the rain really bothers you all that much.

You push open the door and the bell chimes, making the alpha behind the counter look up at you and give you a small nod- you’ve been his daily customer for sixteen days now.

Your feet carry you where you need to go, grabbing the largest, cheapest bottle of vodka, and heading to the counter. He puts down the paper, looking from the bottle to you, “Twenty-twenty-five.”

“Here, keep the change,” you toss the cash on the counter as he brown bags it for you.

He clears his throat, “You know miss, not that you don’t give me good business, they have places that can help with that.”

You shake your head, “I don’t need any help.”

He tries to grab your hand and you jerk away, making him grimace, “Sorry, I just know what it’s like to be an alpha in a dark place.”

“Yeah, well that’s my only place… And if you want to keep that hand, don’t try that again.”

“I know what you are, that can’t be easy…” he tries.

“Yeah, you have no idea, you don’t know,” you snap, your heart clenching in your chest.

“I was just trying to help.”

“Don’t… no one can.”

“Listen,” he rushes from behind the counter and grabs your shoulder, spinning you.

As soon as he touches you, something inside you snaps. You grip the handle of the knife, pulling it out of your jacket, burying it in his neck before he can move. Blood spurts from the wound and drips down his chest as his eyes glass over, his weight slumping forward into you.

What have you done?

You hadn’t meant to, but you’re so unhinged and you just don’t care. You really don’t give a flying fuck that you killed a man that had only been trying to help you. You can’t bring yourself to give a shit as you support his body, the warm blood soaking through your clothes.

You glance around out of habit, already knowing there isn’t anyone here with you. You take your knife back and grab the bottle of vodka before turning on your heel and strolling back out into the pouring rain.

You’re soaked through when you finally make it to the room. You strip down to your boy-shorts and sports bra, tossing the sopping clothes on top of the empty and broken bottles, not bothering with dry clothes as you unscrew the cap. You take a long swig as the tears start to sting the corners of your eyes, “Dammit.”

You slump down on the floor, leaning against the foot of the bed and keep drinking, every time you blink, his face waiting for you behind your eyelids. Tonight is going to be bad and you just want it to stop.

About halfway through the bottle you get up off the floor and you swear you can hear his voice saying your name, calling you. You swallow hard, stumbling to the bathroom.

“Y/N…” his voice low and deep, like when he would say your name in the morning. You hold your eyes shut, trying to picture what he looked like through your alcohol riddled brain, but you can’t, all you can see is those dead eyes.

Opening your eyes you see your disheveled reflection, the blood that covers your cheek, the bags under your bloodshot eyes, the cut that goes from your ear to your chin where the bastard had got you with that bottle. Despite all that, all you can really see is how much you’ve failed.

You hate it, you hate yourself more than anything, so much that it leaves a rancid taste in your mouth and a rotten feeling in your gut. You know it doesn’t matter how many more people you fight, how many more punches you throw, how much more you drink… nothing is going to fill that gaping hole.

You scream, punching the mirror, shattering the glass, sending pieces clattering into the sink, and you can’t help but stare at your broken reflection in the shards.

There’s one big sliver taunting you on the top of the rest of the broken pieces. You pick it up, feeling as the jagged edges scrape your skin. You think about how easily that broken bottle had sliced into that alpha at the bar, how it didn’t take much to push the knife into the store owner’s neck.

As you stare at yourself you can’t help but wonder if maybe the world would be a little bit better without you in it.


	12. Part 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It’s just you, you and a piece of glass

You grip the glass shard in your hand, sitting in the empty tub, the bottle of vodka nearing its end perched on the side. You tighten your fingers, feeling the jagged edges break the skin on your palm. Even though it hurts, it is something and it’s the best you’ve felt in a long time.

You’ve been staring at it for hours, the cold glass, trying to work up the courage, unable to actually do it. You don’t know why, it’s not like there is anything left here for you.

The tears slide down your cheeks as you start crying again, taking another swig from the bottle, the liquid dangerously close to the bottom. Dammit, you’d always thought you were brave, but now? Now you think it might just have been years and years of stupidity and blind rage. Fuck, you’re too much of a coward to even do this.

You spin the glass in your fingers, catching your reflection again and quickly looking away. You don’t know what Dean had seen in you, you are a piece of shit, and hell, hours ago you killed a totally innocent man and you don’t care about him at all. You don’t care about the family he might have, or what will happen to them, all you care about is that hole in your chest. The hole you want to make go away.

Your vision is getting fuzzy around the edges, and you wonder if you did it now if it would just be like falling asleep and not waking up. It wouldn’t be so bad, it’s a lot better than you probably deserve. Though, it isn’t how you’ve imagined going out.

You’d always thought you would die hunting, or go down fighting in a bar fight or something like that. But just having that month with Dean gave you this little bit of hope that maybe there was more to life than dive bars and monster blood. And now you don’t know if you want to be here tomorrow, but you do know you don’t want to feel like this anymore.

Swallowing hard, you squeeze the glass again, trying to picture his face, wishing you could hear his voice, but the memories are fading. The sound of his laugh in your head is slowly being replaced by the sound of your sobs. You can’t stop the self loathing and it’s starting to spill into how you feel about De- fuck it.

You press the shard into your left arm, running it up, leaving a trail of crimson in its wake.You’re too damn drunk to hit the vein you want, but you know it is enough that you won’t be a problem anymore in the morning. You take the piece of mirror in your left hand and it hurts to grip it, the muscles you just cut refusing to work with you, and you run it up the inside of your right arm, wincing as it slices through your skin unevenly.

You let the shard slip through your fingers, falling to the ground as you lay back in the bathtub, the warm blood oozing over your skin. You take the cheap bottle, drink the last bit of vodka, and close your eyes, the alcohol and blood loss making you sleepy.

Dean. For the first time in four months, you really let yourself think of your Omega… think of how much you love him. It’s painful, but you know it’s temporary now so it doesn’t hurt quite as bad. For the first time in months you can see his smile, you can see the messy, spiky hair that he had in the morning. Most importantly, you can see the life in his eyes- you could see how much your Omega loved you.

____

**Dean’s POV:**

“Where is Y/N, Sam?” Me and Bobby had been able to find Sam pretty easily, his cell phone pinged off a tower. But Y/N had no phone, no cards used, no nothing.

“Where is she?”

Sam looks away, he hasn’t been able to meet my eyes since I asked about her.

“Sam?”

He swallows, chewing his lip, “I don’t know…I haven’t seen her since-”

“Dammit Sam, you promised!” I shout, unable to control it, “You promised me you would watch out for her.”

“Dean, she couldn’t even look at me man. She hates me, she tried to kill me… again.”

I shake my head, pacing the room. I’m sweating like crazy, my skins itchy. Go figure, I get back from Hell right in time to go into heat.

I need her, I need to know she’s okay, “Fuck.”

All I can think about is how I left her in that damn room, the image of her eyes looking out that little slit, how betrayed she looked, I could fucking feel it. I didn’t want to do it but it was the only way to keep her from killing herself trying to save me, “I gotta find her Sam.”

I need her, I can feel it in my bones how much she’s hurting, and I know if I told that to Sam he would think I was batshit crazy, but I don’t know, the second she claimed me, it was like everything that didn’t make sense fell into place, and I can’t explain what that feels like to Sam.

Sam rolls his eyes, “I kept tabs on her, alright? I lost her about a month ago but she shouldn’t be too hard to find, all we have to do is follow the bodies.”

“What?”

“Any town she’s in a few alphas end up hospitalized.” Sam sits down at his computer, typing away.

I don’t know what I thought would happen, I hoped she would figure it out, like maybe her and Sammy could stick together and keep hunting. I just wanted her to be okay, I couldn’t let her die for me.

“Damn,” he flips the laptop around, “I think she might be in town.”

“What?” I look at the police report that is filled out, scanning it for important details. It’s for a bar fight and one of the guys had decided to report it. I shake my head, “Can’t believe they actually filed.”

“There’s more Dean.”

I keep scrolling through the notes and read that her description matched  that of a person caught on camera that stabbed a store owner. “How long ago?”

Sam shrugs, “Time stamp says 11:58, that’s about two hours ago…There’s a video from the store’s security feed uploaded.”

He pulls it up, and I can’t see her face, but that’s her plunging that knife into the guy’s neck and letting him drop to the floor. It’s her, she’s thinner than she was, hair wilder, but that is her, that’s my Alpha.

I touch the screen as she walks out the door, heading up the street, “You got a map?”

“Yeah,” Sam switches the tabs, “the store is right about here.”

“Alright, pull up motels, cheaper the better.”

“There’s one, about a mile away, that’s walkable for her.”

I grab my jacket, heading for the door, “Let’s get going.”

It takes ten minutes to get there, but those ten minutes last forever.

“Stay in the car Dean.”

“What?” He’s gotta be joking.

“I’m going to go talk to the clerk, and dude you stink.” Sam wrinkles his nose and grimaces.

I sigh, he’s not wrong. I’ve already sweat through my t-shirt, my clothes are sticking all over my skin. “Fine.”

He gets out and it only takes me about sixty seconds to get sick of waiting. Something is wrong, it’s more than just the heat, something is wrong with her. It’s this gut-churning feeling that won’t go away.

I take a deep breath when I step outside, it reeks like alpha everywhere, but shitty motels usually do. I slip in the entrance, heading up the first flight of stairs, trying to concentrate but the pit is growing in my stomach, like the closer I get the further I am away.

Then it hits me, her. It’s like I never left, exactly like I remember as I pass room 213.

I stare at it, knocking gently but there is no answer. I sniff cautiously, but her scent is mixed with the smell of blood and alcohol so strong it burns my nose.

I knock again, panicking, “Y/N?”

______

**Reader’s POV:**

You start crying again, the tears sliding down your cheeks as you start to feel cold and begin shivering. It won’t be long now.

“Y/N?” You’re hallucinating again, but this time his voice doesn’t sound so far away, so soft.

“Y/N!” He sounds so scared, so close, and every instinct you have is telling you to make it okay even though he isn’t there.

Then you feel hands on you but you can’t open your eyes, too weak and tired, “What did you do sweetheart?”

“Alpha?” he’s so pained and broken and this isn’t something you remember, but your murky brain can’t make heads or tails of what’s going on.

“ ‘mega?” you whisper, trying to force your eyes open as you slip towards unconsciousness, warm hand hot against your freezing skin the only thing grounding you

“Yeah it’s me… Y/N, open your eyes, stay with me.”

You can feel something scratchy against your arms, but you can’t will your muscles to move to get away from it. You try to suck in a deep breath, willing your eyes open, but you can’t overcome the exhaustion and it is getting harder and harder to think.

This is your dying mind’s crazy fantasy, Dean isn’t coming for you.

“Alpha, please,” and you feel like you are floating and falling at the same time, the world fading away.

“Dean,” you mumble, your eyes fluttering open for a moment, two green ones meeting yours. In that moment everything is right, everything is whole again. It’s warm and real and he’s here.

All too quickly it fades away and there is nothing but darkness, loneliness and you.


	13. Part 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean and you struggle with the aftermath of your decision

It’s like being underwater, this suspension where you don’t know exactly where your body is, and you don’t know if you are floating or sinking because you have no clue where the surface is.

Then you’re drowning.

You thrash wildly, but something, or someone holding you down as you try to fight your way back.

“Fuck Y/N, I’ve gotta stop the bleeding.”

Dean. Dean’s here and it is going to be okay. His arms are around you, holding you close to his body as the world spins, even when you feel the bed under your back.

But it can’t be Dean, Dean is dead, you saw his body in the back of the Impala. You aren’t getting him back, it’s some demon riding his meat suit or a shifter. It isn’t him.

“No!” you shout, struggling like hell, pulling yourself back. “Get out of him.”

“Please Y/N, it’s me.”

You reach for the knife under the pillow, trying to hold onto the handle, but you can’t get a good grip. Dammit, please.

The handle feels heavy and clumsy in your fingers, you can’t close them around it, “Y/N, hold still, dammit.”

“Dean!” Sam yells, but why would Sam be here? Sam wouldn’t be here unless it was actually Dean.

“No,” you gurgle, “s’not him.”

“Dean!” He shouts again and no one answers.

Everything is going black again, it’s so cold and you can’t stop shaking.

____________

You’re dreaming, you know you are because it’s too good to be real. Everything is warm; the light, the air, the blanket you’re curled up under, and the body you are next to.

Dean. He’s sleeping, his arm wrapped around your waist, holding you close.

You stare at him, at his freckles and messy hair, as you touch his face gently, your fingertips barely touching his skin. He’s so perfect, so soft, so right and you never want to be anywhere but here.

“Hey sweetheart,” he mumbles, smiling, still not opening his eyes.

“‘mega,” you whisper, pressing your lips against his cheek.

His smile grows, eyes opening slowly for a moment before he closes them again, pulling you closer and nuzzling against your cheek, his lips pressing against your skin.For the first time in a long time you feel right, you feel whole, you feel complete again.

“Please, Alpha,” he mutters, his voice broken and far away.

“What Dean?” Your brow furrows as you try to crane your neck to see him, only you can’t, and your heart begins to thud loudly in your chest.

“Please come back to me.”

_______

**Dean’s POV:**

“Alpha,” I swallow hard, my hand holding hers tight as the machine cycles again, her chest rising and falling with it.

They had to stick that damn tube down her throat; by the time I’d gotten her in here her organs were failing because she’d lost so much damn blood. They’d taken her away, to surgery, hooked her up to IV’s and blood along with the respirator. Coma, doc said, and the fucker couldn’t tell me if she would recover or not.

She hasn’t woken up and it’s been two days. Two fucking days since I found her in that bathtub, covered in her own blood, eyes glazed and unfocused. I can’t get the way she looked out of my head. Her broken body, how thin she is, how her skin is tight with that yellow tint from the hard drinking.

“Why’d you do it sweetheart?” I brush her hair back, touching her cheek.

Sam clears his throat. He’s leaning against the wall, his arms crossed across his chest. I hadn’t heard him come back in, “Because you left her.”

My jaw tightens, “It’s not like I sold my soul for kicks. I did it to sa-”

“No,” he snaps, “you did it because you couldn’t be alone.”

I shake my head, looking back to her, “I couldn’t let you die, I didn’t know about her.”

“Yeah, well you made the decision to be her mate.”

“You don’t know what it’s like,” I growl. “She’s my Alpha.”

He half laughs, “Yeah, and you broke her. You know, you both thought I was pissed off because I’m in love with her and I didn’t want you two to be happy. I was pissed because I know her, I knew when she lost you what it was going to do, that she was go-.”

“I didn’t know!”

“Yeah you didn’t because you don’t know the first thing about her!” he shouts, throwing up his hands. “You weren’t there after she presented, you didn’t deal with her after she almost ripped that alpha’s throat out when he tried to knot her. You haven’t spent the last four months cleaning up her mess. You weren’t here to keep her from going off the edge. No, you just think because you’re soulmates or whatever it fixes everything!”

“Sam-” I try, starting to get pissed off.

“No!” he stands up straight, walking towards us, “If you really loved her you would have left her alone. She was at least manageable before.”

“It’s not that simple,” I growl low, watching him carefully “It wasn’t, it wasn’t like I made a conscious decision to want her like this. When she’d looked at me, everything fell into place, for the first time in my entire life it felt right, like I belonged.”

Sam doesn’t know what that’s like, he never will.

I glance down at her, my heart pounding in my chest when I think about her, remembering that she’s laying here, totally helpless because of me.

“Yes it is, I’m done. She’s not mine. You want her, you got it, I’m out. I’m not sticking around to watch my brother and my best friend kill each other.”

“Sam,” but he ignores me, opening the door and heading out to the hall. I should go after him, but I can’t leave her, I can’t bring myself to.

The monitor starts beeping like crazy and suddenly there is a flood of nurses rushing in.

“I need you to step back sir,”one tries to shove me back but I can’t let go of her hand.“You need to step back so we can help her,” she snaps.

“I-I…” her body is twitching, thrashing around.

“If you don’t, we can’t do anything.”

I swallow, letting her fingers slip from mine and back away until I hit the wall. They yell numbers back and forth, keep putting different things in her IV bag. Then the line on the screen goes flat, and instead of beeps it’s a high pitched tone.

Fuck. I cover my mouth, trying to stay upright, but it feels like my chest is getting torn apart. My breaths are coming in short pants and I try to keep breathing while I watch the nurses run around her bed.

They start chest compressions and charge the defibrillator. Fuck, this… seeing her like this is worse than anything they fucking did to me in Hell.

For a minute I kinda wonder if I’m still there and they are making me see this shit. But this is too goddamn real.

They shock her, her back arching off the bed.

Nothing.

Again.

Nothing.

Again.

________

**Reader’s POV:**

“Dean?” you yell, looking around the empty room.

“Dean!” Your voice bounces off the walls.

You don’t know where the hell he went, he’d just been here with you. He’s gone.

“No,” you whisper, getting off the bed, but your feet splash where there should be carpet. What the hell?

This isn’t the same room, this one is cold and the bed isn’t there anymore. You’ve got to be dead, there isn’t another explanation.

You take another step, the water sloshing as you go toward the wall, to this spot that doesn’t quite look like it belongs. You tilt your head, unsure as the world seems to spin and focus there, your reflection staring back.

Your head is cocked to the side, your eyes searching your own face until she moves, head tilting the other way and taking a step forward as you take one back. What the fuck?

She smiles, this wicked little grin, and you recognize it, it’s the one you make when you know you have someone pinned and trapped. You stop and she does too, standing your ground.

Your jaw clenches, the flight instinct gone and replaced by fight. You’re not being beat, not by anyone, not even yourself.

“You can’t win this one,” she tips her head to the side, Y/C/E traveling over your body, watching your stance, “you don’t have it in you anymore.”

“Bullshit,” you hiss.

She looks around the room, shrugging, “Can’t beat yourself. That’s who you really hate the most, isn’t it?”

You growl low, not responding. You don’t know what kind of hell this is, but you would rather face an ass load of demons than be standing here right now.

She takes a slow step to the left, forcing you to move to keep your distance, her eerie voice filling the open space, “I mean, you hate Dean for leaving you all alone, but it isn’t the same.”

“I don’t hate him, I couldn’t.”

“You don’t know how to feel anything else.” She lunges a half step towards you, enough to make you flinch back and brace. She cackles, the laugh ringing in your ears as it echoes into the quiet around you.

She knows.

“Yes I do,” you snap.

“No you don’t. You hate your family, you hate Sam, you hate yourself. That’s all you can feel Y/N.”

“Shut up!”

“You know you don’t really love Dean, you can’t. You aren’t capable of it.”

“I am,” you try, not sure if you are attempting to convince her or yourself. Is there really a difference?

“If you did, you would have saved him,” she smirks, stopping her movement, her arms crossed and eyebrow raised, waiting.

“I tried,” you stop, feeling the tears well up in your eyes as you flit through the memories of his torn body, the lifeless green eyes. “I tried.”

“Wasn’t good enough, was it?” She smiles, “And now it’s just you… and me.”

“No,” you shake your head, trying to make sense of everything, “he was here.”

“You’re gone, made sure of that, didn’t ya?” she taunts.

You bite down on your tongue, your fingers clenching. What were you supposed to do? You thought maybe here you could feel something again. You knew you weren’t going to Heaven, if there was such a thing… you’d caused enough pain and misery to make sure of that. But you thought maybe, just maybe there was a chance you could find Dean in Hell and if you didn’t, at least you wouldn’t be inflicting your own pain anymore. Well, that had been the thought.

Now you’re here, staring at yourself, and God you fucking hate her, “Leave me alone.”

“That’s not really an option is it?”

“Go away.”

“Make me,” she snaps. “But you can’t, you gave up, you quit. So how the hell are you supposed to fight?”

You don’t know. You swallow, backing away. There is really only one reason you would.

Your Omega, Dean, he was how you were supposed to. And suddenly from your fuzzy brain you vaguely remember strong arms lifting you, his scent filling your nostrils. It isn’t the same as the warm, comforted feeling earlier of him against you. This was real, it was real because you felt the pain.

You set your jaw, looking at her, not sure if this is the answer but you are not spending forever like this.

She smiles, “You don’t have it in you.”

“The fuck I don’t.” You feel that rage in the pit of your stomach, the familiarity of it, and it is so different from the emptiness you’ve felt for months. At least out there, you have a shot, and even if Dean isn’t there, you will find a way. You’re not letting her beat you.

You rush forward, aiming low, ready to tackle her but as you brace for impact you start choking, your eyes flying open to be met with blinding light.

“She’s up,” someone yells, but you lose track of what they are saying, preoccupied by how heavy your arms and legs feel and the fact you can’t seem to pull in a breath. You’re helpless and exposed.

You try and say something, and that’s when you realize there is a tube jammed down your throat. Your eyes finally start to adjust as you try to sit up but hands push you back down against the bed. No, you don’t know what is happening.

You start choking again, confused as people yell at each other, “Get something in that bag to calm her down!”

You keep struggling, keep fighting because you don’t want to go back to that place. What stops you is one word.

“Alpha.”

You freeze, his voice deep and sure. Your eyes flit to where it came from and he’s standing beside you, the one nurse trying to hold him back.

“Don’t put her under,” he says to them, but his olive eyes never leave yours. You reach out towards him and he closes the distance, his hand wrapping around yours as he falls to his knees by the bed, his forehead pressed against your hand. “Goddammit, Y/N.”

Every bit of tension and stress he’s been carrying, you feel it fade away. You reach across yourself, ignoring the soreness, your fingers threading through his hair as you try to calm down… but you are so overwhelmed. Dean’s here, and you don’t know if it’s real, but it sure as hell feels like it.

“Y/N?” Someone on the other side touches your shoulder and you have to pry your eyes away from Dean. “I’m Dr. Johnson and I’m going to take the tube out now. So if you could just work with me for a second.”

You nod, desperate to get this thing out of you.

“Alright Y/N, I’m gonna have you take a deep breath and then try to cough, okay?”

You nod again, squeezing Dean’s fingers as they prep. You breath in before he pulls that damn thing out and it is the most disgusting feeling ever, like throwing up but something is dragging it out of you. You start coughing and Dean gets up quickly, hovering around the side of your bed. You can tell he doesn’t want anyone near you right now.

“Let’s get Y/N some water and give these two some space,” the doc instructs, moving the bed into a half sitting position. “Welcome back to the world of the living Y/N, we thought you may have left us.”

You still don’t talk, just nod and glance back to Dean as you hear feet shuffle away. Dean brushes your hair away from your face, swallowing hard.

“D-dean?” it’s barely a whisper. He nods, leaning down and pressing his forehead against yours.

“Yeah, it’s me.” His body shakes against you and you are filled with guilt.

The tears start sliding down your cheeks, you’d left your Omega, you promised you wouldn’t do that. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay.”

“Omega,” you touch his face, just barely, but he held your hand there firmly, leaning into it.

“I thought I lost you,” he whispers, kissing your palm before setting your hand on your stomach and sitting next to you, his hand running up and down your arm.

“You were dead,” you choke out as you try and wrap your mind around this.

“I don’t kn-”

“I couldn’t save you,” you whine, the tears spilling over as you remember his dead eyes again. Your hand grabs his arm, holding on like he’s going to disappear at any moment.

“Shh,” he tries, moving so he can lay beside you as you start shaking, holding you against his chest the best he can with the monitor and the IV hooked up, “I’m here now.”

“How?”

“I have no idea sweetheart…I ended up topside four days ago.”

“But… you were torn apart.” Even if he was shoved back in his body, he should look like a zombie movie reject.

“I don’t know. I came up and all my scars were gone… every bullet hole, every knife, except for this…” he pulls his sleeve up, revealing an angry red handprint shaped burn that you gently touch with your fingertips. He lets the sleeve fall back, tugging at the collar of his shirt, exposing his shoulder,  “And this”

Your heart clenches in your chest when you see your claim mark still there. You swallow hard, almost afraid to touch it, but overwhelmed with the need to. You sigh, resting your forehead against the crook of his neck, your nose pressed against the scar.

He pulls back a little, pressing a kiss to the top of your head, “I guess there might be something to that soulmate thing, huh?”

You press your lips against his skin, “My Omega.”

He chuckles low, hooking a finger under your chin, “My Alpha.”

Never have you heard two words that make you as whole and break you apart as much as those.


End file.
